Heliogabalus
by caribou.and.cake
Summary: Ichigo, Tribal Prince of the Northern Water Tribe, meets his match in Grimmjow, a Fire Nation Admiral. Like yin and yang, together they are whole. Yaoi.
1. starry night

**Summary: **Ichigo, Tribal Prince of the Northern Water Tribe, meets his match in Grimmjow, a Fire Nation Admiral. Like yin and yang, together they are whole. Yaoi.

**Warnings:** Crossover, yaoi, mature and sexual content, violence, minor character death. Also, this story will follow the original Avatar series from the end of season one to the very end. I'm only altering little things here and there to make the story work. The only representation of Bleach are Grimmjow and Ichigo, this is set completely in the Avatar world.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, Avatar: the Last Airbender, or any of their characters.

* * *

**_Heliogabalus_**

_chapter one: starry night _

* * *

_"You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun." ~ Prince Zuko_

* * *

Seventeen years ago, the eighty third anniversary of the Hundred Year War, which the Fire Lord Sozin began to fulfill his desire for power by laying siege to the rest of the world, a baby boy with ironically brazen orange hair was born to two Southern Water Tribe waterbenders and given the name Ichigo.

He was well loved and cared for, despite the troubled times they all lived in, until a Fire Nation raid turned into a horrific massacre. His mother and father, the last of the waterbenders, fought the masked soldiers brilliantly but in the end they lay dead in the snow as their newborn baby cried out for them. Now an orphan, Ichigo's future looked bleak at best as what was left of the tribe had no means to take in the poor boy. However, one of the remaining warriors took pity upon the orange-haired infant and brought him along on a journey to their sister tribe in the north pole.

The original purpose of the trip had been to convince the Tribal Chief to send desperately needed help to the south but what the Water Tribe warrior hadn't known was that the chief and his wife had been unable to conceive an heir to secede the position of leader to the Northern Water Tribe - the Tribal Prince. More specifically, their archaic laws declared that heir be male. Instead of the warrior returning home with relief for the ruins of the southern tribe he did so with less than before.

Chief Arnook and his wife were beyond delighted to proclaim their newly adopted son as the one who would lead and protect the Northern Water Tribe and uphold its honored traditions. At first, the people didn't know what to think of the foreign child with hair the color of flames but when Ichigo, at the tender age of two, showed incredibly obvious signs of being a waterbender they accepted him wholeheartedly. However, a year before this, Arnook's wife finally gave birth to a child - a girl, frail and sickly and silent. As a last resort, the couple brought the infant princess to the tribe's spirit oasis and lay her in the sacred pool, praying for the moon to heal their daughter. The spirit granted their wish and the girl's dark hair lightened to snow white, a symbol of her connection to the moon spirit that was so strong her parents named her Yue.

In spite of their different parentage, Ichigo considered the princess and his adoptive mother and father as his family. Though the war raged on in the rest of the world, his childhood was peaceful within the ice fortress of the tribe. Unfortunately, when he was seven and his sister merely six, their mother succumbed to illness yet their shared grief only brought them closer together.

Ichigo was taught everything there was to know about being Chief and showed such a great deal of innate talent and potential for the art of waterbending at age ten he was sent to Master Pakku, teacher to all waterbenders for decades and the bane of Ichigo's existence in the very brief duration of his training. The prince didn't take well to being ordered around and restricted to only what the elderly waterbender instructed. Ichigo loathed the horrifically controlled and stiff style that the severely composed northern waterbending was known for. He preferred a much more aggressive and forceful technique, one he could back up for his bending abilities were almost unnaturally powerful, sending tidal waves where other waterbenders created ripples.

It wasn't out of frustration that Ichigo stopped attending lessons on his twelfth birthday, but rather because a sour Pakku out of obligation grudgingly bestowed upon him the title of Master. Arnook had been so proud he'd held a feast in his son's honor. Ichigo hadn't been as excited for it meant there was nothing left to learn and without the excuse of lessons his life from there on would consist entirely of his princely duties, some of them excruciatingly boring or tedious. He didn't want to be the one planning and strategizing, watching warriors and benders revelling in the intoxicating thrill of battle. Waterbending was what he loved more than anything, his intense, feral interpretation the very essence of his soul. It was a physical art that expressed who he was. _He_ was waterbending.

So, since he wasn't given time to practice he made it, in a sacred place any of his fellow tribe members would take personal offense should they discover Ichigo spent his late night and early morning hours in the Spirit Oasis. Over the course of five years, his already masterly bending grew stronger and expanded infinitely as he developed new moves and techniques. Once he'd even scandalously spied on the girls' healing lesson, learning how to use waterbending to heal wounds, illnesses, and even some mental ailments. He never actually got the chance to play healer; it wasn't proper in the tribal society for men to learn healing just as it wasn't allowed for women to study bending to fight. In those five years, he made sure to only waterbend completely alone. Not even his sister or father saw him in action during those five years.

But then the world's savior, the Avatar awakened, came to the Northern Water Tribe and brought with him a heavy dose of reality and not just the chance but the need for Ichigo, Tribal Prince, to step out of the shadows and protect the only home he'd ever known.

Little did he know that sailing toward him was his absolute and perfect equal.

* * *

Across the ocean to the volcanic islands of the Fire Nation, twelve years before the orange-haired waterbender was born, a blue-haired firebender entered the world - an exact opposite.

The baby boy was the only child of a wealthy, influential couple of an arranged marriage. But more than anything, the husband and wife craved status, the support of the Fire Lord, and power and so they named their son Grimmjow, a moniker specially chosen for its fierce, guttural sound. Their child had to have a name that could invoke an intense reaction to all who heard it. Fear and control were very important in the cutthroat society of Fire Nation nobility, after all. Especially if you wanted to enlist your son in the prestiged military, the nation's pride and joy.

From day one, Grimmjow was groomed to become a commanding officer. Learning planning and strategizing, swordsmanship, military terms and jargon, hand to hand combat, and, most importantly, firebending. Though every now and then the gossipy nobles whispered in distaste of his blue like water hair and eyes, Grimmjow excelled at everything, except firebending - for to say he excelled at it would be a gross understatement. Fire comes from the blood, its bending an expulsion of pure energy, of which he possessed a level so much greater than the average bender that he trained in controlling his bending so that in battle he wouldn't set fire to entire cities and burn them to a crisp accidentally. Amazingly, his skill caught the attention of the Fire Lord himself who was so impressed by a fourteen year-old Grimmjow's abilities he gave both the title of Master and a position of Captain when he came of age.

Grimmjow claimed his promised Captain status and threw himself head first into the war efforts. He was made for the military, quite literally. He was ruthless, commanding, ambitious, and cunning - the perfect cocktail for a commanding officer - and he was ardently determined, he never gave up or surrendered, he refused to stop until he got what he came for. Grimmjow would never back down, not even if it meant certain death. He inspired awe in allies and enemies alike. People questioned if he was even human, if maybe he was a god of war sent from the Spirit World.

He rose in the ranks swiftly until at the age of twenty-nine he became Admiral of the Southern Fleet, the highest title in the Fire Nation the four who held it were revered and treated like royalty. Yet he soon grew bored with the position, nothing much to be done in the south after the forty-six raids years and years ago on the Southern Water Tribe resulted in a desolate tundra of a few warriors and their wives and children, not a single bender among them.

Not too long after the news of the Avatar's return, Grimmjow received an invitation from another officer - a commander - to meet at his camp to discuss something very important. Excited at the prospect of finally putting his power and talents to use, the admiral turned his fleet of great metal ships around to head north.

What he didn't know was that what awaited for him on the opposite end of the world would be much more exciting than he could have ever imagined.

* * *

It was just after dawn, the moon beginning its crossing across the star-studded sky, and Ichigo was currently hurrying through his city, sticking to walking on the ice walkways bordering the street canals. Not a soul was to be seen anywhere when usually there was an abundance of people and the gondolas carrying them through the canals but this was to be expected. They were all where Ichigo was supposed to be a half hour ago but then he'd had to stop and change out of his casual attire to more formal wear, a nuisance he couldn't avoid as the Tribal Prince.

Ichigo now wore a warm, light blue tunic - an unusual choice for navy blue was customary - decorated with upper arfurmthat bands of white wolf that also bordered the hood covering most of his sunshine-colored hair save for a few strands, some of which held one or two beads in blue and white. He also wore lower arm wraps under the sleeve of his tunic that ended around his wrists, his hands partly concealed by black fingerless gloves, and loose-fitting pants the same light blue as the tunic. Around his neck were three traditional water tribe necklaces, one stranded with beads and the canines of large artic wolves, another a long leather cord whose pendant was a decorated water canister, and the third a choker of ivory puka shells a band of warriors brought back from their travels. And on his feet were heavy fur boots neccessary for tPhe tundra-like terrain.

He hadn't planned on being late, he'd known just how important his attendance was, and he'd been completely unaware of the time up until a few minutes ago. That was just how he was with his waterbending. Practicing it was a spiritual experience, like he had to tap into his soul for the power to be one with the water, to pull it into a primitive, mystical dance still graceful despite his fervent and vehement style. Ichigo lost himself to the push and pull of bending, merely a channel for the ocean and moon spirits, and so he lost track of time rather easily. Sometimes, he would dive so deeply into his power he would resurface thinking minutes had passed when it had really been hours. Perhaps it was a side effect of practicing in the Spirit Oasis, one of the most sacred places in all four nations.

Ichigo finally came to the steps of the city's grand palace, not his family's home for the Tribal Chiefs always insisted they were not kings and their family not royalty either even though their children held the titles of prince and princess. Rushing up to the entrance, taking two steps at a time, Ichigo wondered if his father would somehow punish him for his tardiness. Chief Arnook wasn't cruel or even strict, but this was pretty important...

The orangette skid to a halt in front of the huge ice pillars on either side of the entrance to the grand hall filled with every tribe member and tons of food on every last inch of table surface. Pulling down his hood and eyes automatically glancing over to the seats closest to the chief, Ichigo walked stately towards the head of the table. People were staring at him disapprovingly, but he barely noticed. His attention was entirely focused on their three visitors, especially on the young boy dressed in yellow and orange, blue arrow tattoos on every visible piece of skin.

It had to be the Avatar, an entity everyone believed lost forever for a hundred years. In spite of his very different imaginings of the Avatar, Ichigo wasn't disappointed. Though they hadn't spoken one word to each other, Ichigo thought there was a good sense about the boy, if that made any sense.

"Ah, Ichigo, you've finally arrived," Arnook said as his adoptive son took his assigned seat at his right side. "I was beginning to worry."

Considering no one was watching or listening to them, Ichigo was relieved to confirm the chief wasn't terribly upset with him for being late. "Yeah, sorry. I lost track of the time," he said, reaching for a platter of boiled white sea crabs, they were a delicacy and rarely served so he always made sure to fill up on them when they were.

"That's all right, Ichigo, but just remember when you take my place as chief tardiness could result in tragedy," Arnook advised, never missing an opportunity to pass on chiefly knowledge. "Now, let me introduce you to our guest, the Avatar."

As the chief turned to face said guest, Ichigo swallowed a rather large bite of crab meat. For some reason, he was actually a little unnerved to meet the Avatar though he was only a child of twelve, five years younger than the prince. Perhaps it was because of all the stories he'd heard growing up of the Avatar's magnificent powers and acts that changed the world.

"Avatar Aang, I would like you to meet my son, Prince Ichigo," Arnook said and the Avatar's wide, gray eyes flickered over to look at the orangette.

"Wow, I've never met a real live prince before," the boy chirped enthusiastically, his pet lemur hopping down from its perch on his shoulder as he leaned over, almost lying across the chief's lap. "You know, the chief, your dad, said you're a waterbending master and Katara and me are looking for one to teach us."

"Uh, I..."

"I'm sorry, young Avatar, but my son will be very busy during your stay here," Arnook cut in, annoying Ichigo a bit because even though he probably would've said no it wouldn't kill the chief to allow him to speak for himself just once. "But I'm sure Master Pakku will be delighted to have you for a pupil."

The Avatar visibly deflated, shoulders dropping and sighing, and within the second perked right back up again. "Hey Ichigo, you have orange hair," he exclaimed, grinning. "And you're a waterbender. But your hair looks like fire, get it?"

"It is pretty funny," Ichigo admitted, amused that the Avatar was the first one to actually ever say something to his face about his ironic coloring. "But at least I _have_ hair."

There was a dead silence for a moment until Avatar Aang burst into laughter. "Okay, you got me there," he said and Ichigo wished his father didn't try to dictate his life and speak for him to decline the Avatar's request, because he found himself thinking he would like teaching waterbending to the boy. He didn't even think it was ethical for his father to send the Avatar to Master Pakku, that bitter old man wouldn't take kindly to a student still retaining childhood innocence and enthusiasm.

Turning back to his plate of white crab, something in the corner of his eye caught Ichigo's attention. Looking up and to the left he saw his white-haired sister, this day her sixteenth birthday (Ichigo's gift yet to be given.) Every passing year, she grew more beautiful and so did the number of hormonal boys her brother had to... _convince _Princess Yue wasn't the girl for them. It was pretty obvious the male of the two Southern Water Tribe guests was a visitor to the north, otherwise he would've never dared to so blatantly flirt with the princess when her older brother was a few feet away.

Ichigo was about to stand and rescue Yue from the guy with the ponytail when Arnook clasped his shoulder in a fatherly manner and leaned closer to the teenager in order to be heard as he spoke in a whisper. "After everyone leaves, I need to talk with you about something important," the chief said and the anxiety must have shown on Ichigo's face for he elaborated. "No need to worry, it's not anything bad. In fact, it's great news."

This didn't comfort Ichigo. He knew he and his father had differing opinions on what was considered 'great news.'

* * *

And after all the food had been eaten, all the conversations finished, and all the people gone, Ichigo dreadfully found out his gut feeling about the 'great news' was right on target.

"What did you just say?" he asked Arnook, unwilling to believe what he'd heard.

"I said I arranged the perfect marriage for your sister, Yue," the chief answered, completely calm. "To one of best warriors, Hahn. I believe they are well suited for each other."

"Hahn?" Ichigo exclaimed, standing from the table impulsively. "Hahn's an idiot! He shouldn't even be getting married because he's already madly in love with himself. If we placed a mirror at the bottom of the ocean, he'd drown staring at his reflection!"

Arnook sighed but made no move to stand as well. "From what I've seen, Hahn is a capable, brave young man. I think it is your objection to Yue getting married that has you so upset, not an objection to Hahn himself."

"I object to both of them," Ichigo said, volume turned down to a quiet, even level. "Yue's too young to get married and Hahn's too repulsive to marry her."

"You are well aware the marrying age in our tribe is sixteen, Ichigo. I've given you leniency since your own sixteenth birthday as you still had too much to learn and no time to spare. However, now you've mastered everything taught to you and have the time to do the same."

Ichigo was speechless for what seemed an eternity, finally recovering when the meaning of his adoptive father's word sank in. "Are you telling me I also have to get... married?"

"You make it sound like marriage is the end of the world," Arnook said, shaking his head and chuckling in amusement. "But it's understandable, you're young and wish to be free and independent, more so than anyone I've ever known, and you think of marriage as the death of your freedom."

"No, I th-"

"It's all right to feel that way, Ichigo," the chief interrupted, again. "But you'll see I'm doing this for your own good. You'll find a pretty girl, court her, carve her betrothal necklace, and marry her and then you will realize how marriage completes you, makes you a better man for your tribe, to be their leader."

"What if I don't like any of the girls here?" Ichigo said, now beginning to accept that his father wasn't going to change his mind. "What if none of them like me?"

"Oh, trust me, you'll find the one out there somewhere," Arnook said, finally rising to his feet. Now able to look down at his son, he fatherly gripped both of Ichigo's shoulders. "And I believe you'll find that being in love suits you."

The Tribal Prince simply nodded listlessly. "How long do I have?" he asked.

"Well, the eldest sibling should marry first, I think. So a ceremony at the end of next month would be ideal," Arnook said and Ichigo's knees trembled, his legs suddenly weak. "This is a good thing, son. For you and Yue."

The orange-haired waterbender barely heard his father excuse himself and exit the grand hall, leaving Ichigo alone in the immense emptiness of the large space. Deciding it best to go to the Spirit Oasis to think, he strode outside and pulled his hood back over his head. Arms wrapped around himself, he set a brisk pace to travel across the city to the remote, hallowed ground. Eyes on the ice underneath his boots he nearly bumped into someone.

"Sorry, I -" Ichigo stopped talking when he saw the person he'd almost collided into was his sister, her pure white hair glittering in the moonlight. "Yue, what are you doing out here?"

"Actually, I was waiting for you," she said a bit bashfully. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Sure, but let me give you this first," Ichigo said, remembering that he'd been waiting all day for the chance to give his sister her gift. He slipped his hand under the collar of his tunic, feeling the small box in the secret pocket sewn into the inner lining. He pulled it out to hold it in front of him in the palm of his hand. "Happy birthday."

"You didn't have to get me a gift, Ichigo," Yue said even as her eyes lit up and reached out for the box. Lifting the lid, a round, onyx and ivory hairpiece depicted the symbol of the traditional yin and yang, or, according to the Water Tribes, _Tui_ and _La_ - the moon and the ocean spirits. The princess gasped softly, then looked back up to her brother. "It's beautiful, thank you."

"Yeah, I thought you could use another hairpiece," Ichigo said, grinning as Yue giggled for the latter was known for her elaborate hairstyle and outrageous collection of hairpieces. "Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?"

The princess' face fell and Ichigo knew immediately. He could recognize the storm of emotions on his sister's features because he felt the same. "Father told me," he said gently. "About the arranged betrothal."

"Yes, he told me, too," Yue said, her resentment faint but definitely there. "As if I'm unable to have any kind of opinion on the matter. As if I'm some kind of living doll, doing only exactly what I'm told. It's just that... I don't know, do you ever wish you weren't the chief's son? To be a regular member of the tribe and not have an entire city to think of when you do anything? But I've always gotten everything I wanted - only the best for a princess. Do you think I'm only being selfish? "

"You are anything but selfish, Yue," Ichigo said sternly, unwilling to allow anyone say something bad about his sister, even his sister. "In fact, you give too much. Just because you're the chief's daughter doesn't mean you have to marry someone you don't love and be miserable your whole life."

Yue didn't say anything for a second, biting her lip, and then she raised her head to meet her brother's eyes. "Father has done the same to you, hasn't he?" she stated, already knowing the answer. While Yue was somewhat naively idealistic and innocent to the evils of the world, she was pretty intuitive.

"I have until the end of next month to find some poor girl to marry," Ichigo said, sneering at the thought.

"At least you have the chance to find someone you love. It shouldn't be too hard, I've heard many girls have their hearts set on you," Yue said, truly optimistic for her brother when any other in her situation would resent him for having the better deal between the two of them. "And who knows - maybe that someone will come and find _you_."

"I hope so, that would be a lot easier," Ichigo said, speaking the truth. "But what about you? I can't let you get married to that dimwitted jerk. I _won't _let you."

Yue smiled sadly, her blue eyes watery, and wrapped her arms around the orangette in a sisterly embrace. "Don't worry, Ichigo. Everything will be okay in the end, you'll see. If it's not okay, then it's not the end."

Then she was gone and Ichigo was again left alone, feeling a killer migraine coming on. Changing his mind about the Spirit Oasis as thinking was now the last thing he wanted to do, he decided instead to go home and sleep it off.

The funny thing was Ichigo didn't really dislike the prospect of falling in love. What truthfully was bothering him was the fact he couldn't ever tell his father he wanted that someone coming to find him not a girl, but a man.

And somehow he could say with absolute certainty things were about to get pretty insane in the next few days.

* * *

It was currently being told in whispers between soldiers and the crew that Admiral Grimmjow was in a particularly foul mood today. Be careful, they said, stay as far away as possible. The blue-haired admiral had already tossed one man overboard, set fire to a tapestry, thrown his food back at the ship's cook, and fired one of his captains when the tides set their departure from the dock back four hours.

The reason for his ornery temperament and destructive behavior? Well, it was a little complicated, as well as unusual.

Grimmjow was presently in his private quarters, pacing back and forth across the room. He felt overwhelmingly agitated, his heart rate too fast and every beat hard enough it hurt his chest, and he was hot, _so agonizingly hot_. He'd taken off most of his heavy, stifling admiral's uniform, leaving only his pants and boots on and yet a sheer layer of sweat coated his entire body. His gut was clenching, his stomach in knots, and his lungs constricting so that breathing was difficult. There was a strong sense of anxiety and frustration coursing through him, making him on edge and restless. It was misery.

He knew what this was, he'd experienced it many times ever since he was declared a master firebender. For years he never understood what was happening to him and why, until an episode occurred during a visit to the Fire Lord's palace. The Fire Lord himself hadn't thought it strange, saying to the rest of the war council that Admiral Grimmjow was a prime example of the ferocity of a true firebender. However, the man's brother, as wise as they come, knew something was amiss with the blunette.

So that man, General Iroh, sought Grimmjow out after the meeting. Despite the latter's volatile attitude toward the older man, telling him to leave him alone, Iroh eventually wore him down enough so that he would listen to what he had to say and that was this:

Grimmjow had been born with great talent for firebending but also an astronomical amount of channeling energy. Too much of it, in fact, far too much. It took every last bit of Grimmjow's will power to control the fire when he was bending but the thing is, is that firebenders have their fire raging on within themselves. Usually this only manifests itself in normal bouts of aggression or impulsiveness, but the admiral's inner fire burned a hundred times hotter than the average firebender. No mortal man could ever hope to tame that kind of exquisite power. For Grimmjow to maintain it so that he hadn't gone hopelessly mad was astonishing. Without any inkling of how to cure it, these episodes would sporadically seize his body for a few hours, going into remission until next time.

There was a part of Grimmjow that believed one day he was simply going to self-destruct, that inner fire consuming him completely. The rest of him made sure not to think about it.

Lowering himself to sit on the floor in the lotus position, the firebender closed his eyes and began to do something he vowed no other soul would know he practiced. Meditation. A technique so opposite of his personality, Grimmjow had dismissed General Iroh's suggestion he try it for years. He'd only resorted to something he thought incredibly pointless after a week in which he had four of his episodes. To his surprise, he found it worked on abating the terrible symptoms. All he had to do was close his eyes, regulate his breathing, and imagine a roaring fire slowly dissipating into a pile of smoldering ashes.

Unfortunately, it usually was a forty-five minute to an hour long process and exactly when he'd managed to calm down a tentative knock came from his door. Scowling, Grimmjow rose to his feet, stalking over to the metal door and throwing it open. Standing there was a masked soldier, a formidable man to many he was trembling in the admiral's presence.

"What?" Grimmjow spat, his impatience not a symptom, just a personality trait.

"W-we're docking r-right now, A-admiral," the soldier stammered, his expression under his mask surely a picture of fear. His superior didn't bother replying, simply shutting the door in the soldier's face.

Grimmjow grinned wolfishly as he collected the various pieces of his armored uniform from around the room. He'd been bored for far too long and he knew that after this meeting with the Commander, things were bound to get pretty... _exciting_.

* * *

**A/N: And there you have it, my new brainchild! Don't worry, I have not even the slightest intention of abandoning any of my other stories, this is something I've wanted to write for months and thanks to a select few (you know who you are) I finally gained the support I needed to start writing it. The story won't be very long, maybe six to ten chapters tops. We'll see. **

**Well, let me know what you think? **


	2. playing with fire

_..._

_chapter two: playing with fire_

* * *

"_Be careful what you wish for, Admiral." ~ General Iroh_

* * *

Grimmjow had never liked Commander Zhao.

No matter the man's status - general, admiral, commander - the blue-haired firebender had always found Zhao to be the same power-hungry fool, who in the right light weirdly resembled a primate, he'd first met in his Fire Nation Academy days. He suspected the feeling was mutual, the other commanding officer no doubt less than fond of a man who'd never paid him any respect, risen in the military ranks far faster than he ever had, and put his firebending to shame. Zhao was every bit as proud and egotistical as Grimmjow himself and just as ambitious. They were too alike in too many ways for them to exactly see eye-to-eye, yet there had never been even the slightest argument between the two. No, since day one their disdain for each other had manifested itself in double entendres and comments only they knew to be snide and insulting.

However, Grimmjow would never let something so trivial stand in his way, never let an opportunity like the one Zhao would soon present to him pass him by.

But he was powerless to stop the irritability that consumed him more and more as he sat in the commander's quarters, waiting far past the agreed upon meeting time. If it weren't for the importance of their meeting, Grimmjow would have left the second the other party was late. He didn't twiddle his thumbs and wait patiently like a good little boy for _anyone_. And yet, there he was, on Zhao's ship, sitting seiza at a table between two lanterns and positioned parallel to a tapestry decorated with a massive map of the world - each of the original four nations colored accordingly.

Running a hand through his tousled azure locks, his hair free of the customary Fire Nation top knot, Grimmjow growled underneath his breath and drummed his fingers against the table surface. He attempted to remind himself that his patience would be rewarded with a chance to finally join in on the action, the mental exercise successful as he imagined future battles with an eager bloodlust that brought a manic grin to his lips. Oh, what fun he would have paving a path of destruction through the city of the Northern Water Tribe, leaving broken ice and bodies in his wake.

"Admiral Grimmjow, I'm so glad you could make it," a male voice interrupted his fantasies rather annoyingly. Turning his head toward the newcomer, he already knew it could only be the one for whose arrival he'd been anticipating.

"The same to you, Commander. I was beginning to worry you'd fallen victim to tragedy" he said, watching intently as Zhao strode across the space, fully bedecked in the Fire Nation regalia of a commander and blatantly revealing the smug self-satisfaction he felt towards his new position. The man lowered himself to sit opposite the blunette, large, uncovered hands reaching out to grasp the handle of an ornate, dragon-shaped kettle and raise it a few inches off the table.

"Tea, Admiral?" Zhao offered politely, to which Grimmjow frowned and held up a hand in refusal. He hated drinking that hot leaf juice, every flavor of the stuff an offense to his tastebuds. Zhao sighed as if greatly saddened. "Speaking of tragedies, I suppose I should be the first to inform you of our dear Crown Prince Zuko's demise."

Had Grimmjow been less a composed man he was sure his eyes would've widened and jaw dropped in utter shock at the news. Not only was the death of the teenaged prince unexpected, it felt like he'd been punched in the stomach, his throat suddenly constricting. By training and nature, the admiral gave no visible sign of being personally affected to hear of the young royal's passing.

It had been years since he'd seen either of the Fire Lord's children, but long ago, before his graduation and appointment as a captain, Grimmjow had once been very closely connected with the prince and princess. In spite of a personality ill-suited for teaching and dealing with children, they were at one point the only students in existence he'd ever instructed as a master in the art of firebending.

Again, this was all a very long time ago. He doubted his two former pupils would even remember him.

"General Iroh relayed the events to me earlier today. Pirates placed explosives on the ship. They detonated while the prince was still aboard," Zhao said, tone chock full of false sorrow.

And Grimmjow didn't believe him. Not for a second.

He didn't know whether Zhao was lying about Prince Zuko being dead, but there wasn't a bone in his body that accepted the bullshit story casting a band of pirates as the banished prince's killers. In fact, it was all too likely the commander, who'd been competing with the prince to be the one to capture the Avatar, was behind the whole thing. But Grimmjow wasn't stupid or naive enough to call Zhao out then and there, merely responding with a murmured agreement of the news' tragedy.

"And now the task of capturing the Avatar logically falls on my shoulders, Admiral," Zhao said. "Which brings me to why I've asked you to abandon your important duties in the south and meet with me." It didn't escape notice the way the word 'important' was spoken with an undertone of sarcasm that made Grimmjow grit his teeth.

"I'm sure you have plenty of orders to give out and some much needed sleep to catch up on, Commander, so let's dispense the formalities and get to the point, shall we?"

"I couldn't agree more, _Admiral_," Zhao said, his eyes narrowing the tiniest bit at the implication that he did nothing more than order his inferiors around whilst reclining in some comfortable, plush chair. "The point as to why I called upon you is that there is another target in the north pole aside from the Avatar, their capture a task I can only entrust to a firebender with exceptional skill."

Grimmjow knew better than to take the compliment at face value, noting the other basically referred to his firebending as 'good' and made no mention of his title of Master or his exceedingly renowned abilities. "I didn't believe there was any person of importance in the north pole other than the Avatar. Even the Tribal Chief and waterbending Master have been classified a minimal threat."

"Ah, that is the information given to all officers save me," Zhao said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "There is someone located within the city of significance, someone the Fire Lord himself told me he is personally interested in almost as much as the Avatar."

That certainly caught Grimmjow's attention. What Water Tribe man or woman could possibly garner the personal interest of Fire Lord Ozai? Even the most powerful and influential tribe members were openly considered to be of the same status as any of the other Northern Water Tribe citizens, mere pawns in the Fire Nation's conquest of the world.

"This is the person you want me to snatch for you to bring back to the Fire Lord," Grimmjow concluded, crossing his arms over his armored chest. "Obviously if I'm to take on this task, you'll have to tell me _who they are_."

"Obviously," the commander said, forcing a diminutive smile. "However, first let me tell you how I've incorporated your mission into my battle strategy as I'm afraid I most likely will not have another moment to spare discussing it with you from here on out."

"Please._ Enlighten_ me, Commander."

"After we lay siege to the city and break through their outer wall, I will send you out with the third battalion - by that time the battle should be in full swing and therefore provide sufficient distraction. You will then have to separate from the other soldiers and make your way past the Water Tribe's defenses undiscovered. Your target will most likely be further into the city in a secure location, all you have to do is basic search and destroy, except 'search and subdue' may be more fitting. It is the Fire Lord's personal wish injury to the captive be kept to an absolute minimal. Following me so far, Admiral?"

"I follow you perfectly, Commander, due to your innate talent at keeping battle plans as simple as possible - an enviable quality, to be certain," Grimmjow said, mind already working through the holes in Zhao's plan and figuring his assigned target to probably be a vital part of the tribal community if the commander thought for sure the tribe's leaders would keep them away from the main battle site in a secure location. That made sense considering the Fire Nation ruler's interest in them. But he hadn't a clue as to who this mysterious desirable could possible be...

"A great strategizer knows it's best to plan so even the dimmest witted under their command understand all direction given to them," Zhao managed to say despite the way that vein in his temple seemed to be throbbing wildly. "But moving on so we can end this meeting and preparations can be made on your part, your objective will be to defeat and detain seventeen year-old Tribal Prince Ichigo."

...

"I'm I sure misheard you, Commander. Did you just now say you want me to infiltrate enemy territory and kidnap a _child_?"

Grimmjow was not impressed.

"Your ears are in working order, Admiral. Young as he may be, all intelligence we've gathered so far proves the Tribal Prince is no '_child_'," Zhao informed monotonously, his lips curving downwards and brow furrowing into a deep frown from being questioned as if he were an inferior. "Quite to the contrary, Prince Ichigo was proclaimed a waterbending Master two years younger than when you yourself gained the title and is considered by many to be one of, if not _the_, best waterbender in the world. He is also the heir to the position of Tribal Chief, the successor to his adoptive father as leader of the Northern Water Tribe."

Though his expression and body language remained impassive, Grimmjow was secretly impressed by this Prince Ichigo's accomplishments in waterbending. Would he really have the opportunity to duke it out with the _best _living waterbender in all four nations? It was just too good to be true.

"Yet the other Master and the Chief were classified unimportant in the briefing documents sent out a fortnight ago," he said, a part of him skeptical and another wondering what Lord Ozai could want with this prince.

"I suppose as it is your mission you are privy to the discussion the Fire Lord and I had regarding the boy," Zhao admitted grudgingly, clearly unhappy to share anything of his relating to his precious Fire Lord. "However all His Majesty would say of the prince's importance was once he and the Fire Nation are victorious and the war has come to the end he will have use for subservient figureheads his subjects can look to as role models. Prince Ichigo will be an example to his fellow Water Tribe citizens to see the Fire Lord and the royal family not as enemies but the world's new guiding light."

Born into the world of Fire Nation nobility and over a decade served in its military as a high ranking officer, Grimmjow understood Lord Ozai's reasoning for collecting a select few influential Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom natives and what it would mean for those unlucky enough to be chosen. The Fire Lord had a multitude of ways to 'break' these meant to be role models, ranging from cruel to heartless to pure evil and everything in between - they would be fortunate if they were only brainwashed to personify the exemplary obedient subject. He almost felt bad for this Ichigo kid. It was a bleak fate, to say the least.

"And he shall have it. I've yet to disappoint Lord Ozai, it's why he delegated this mission as mine, because he knows I'll deliver," Grimmjow said, rising to his feet and prompting Zhao to do the same. "I believe you already know that, Commander, and therefore positive despite other _contributing factors_ I'm the only man to get the job done. Isn't that right?"

"No one can argue with your track record, Admiral, and I sincerely hope you return successful because if you aren't... well, it's just terribly difficult to think of a new explanation every time an officer disappears," Zhao said, chuckling as if that last part really was simply an off-color joke and not the honest to the Spirit World truth.

"No need to lose any sleep over that particular dilemma; in the wake of our victory at the north pole, the Tribal Prince Ichigo," Grimmjow said with pure determination, placing the heel of his open left hand over his fisted right hand and bowing to the other's mirrored form as was their nation's custom. "You have my gratitude for summoning me from the south, Commander Zhao. As I'm sure you remember, there's nothing I love more than a good fight."

The blue-haired firebender left without another word, not allowing the other man to respond and therefore forcing him to ruminate a few choice memories of spars ending in humiliating defeat at Grimmjow's hands. Zhao had always been a mediocre bender, obsessing over expert techniques he demanded to learn when he was nowhere close to being able to attempt them, and never would be. Sparring against him all those years ago, Grimmjow an academy first year and Zhao close to graduating, had bored the admiral to tears as he found not a bit of a challenge whenever they faced off.

But Prince Ichigo - he was a waterbending Master, ever since he'd reportedly earned the title at the tender age of twelve. They said he was the best, no other waterbender better in either of the Water Tribes or anywhere between. A child of seventeen and considered more skilled, more talented, more powerful than any of the other Masters who'd spent decade upon decade honing their craft. Without having even seen the boy, Grimmjow knew the completely unaware Tribal Prince he was meant to steal from the poor kid's home and deliver to the Fire Lord would without a doubt be the most worthy, exciting, formidable and _best _opponent he ever had the pleasure of fighting.

It was undeniable, Grimmjow, Admiral of the Southern Fleet and Firebending Master couldn't wait for the moment he came face to face with Tribal Prince Ichigo, the best Waterbending Master in the world and of which his incredible desires centered around, the promise of the fight of a lifetime blazing through him, raging inner fire boiling his blood and sparking the electricity of the worst sea storm's lightning in his gut.

He grinned in a mentally unhinged sort of way, maniacal and so very eager. "Get ready, sweet prince," he said under his breath. " 'cause I'm comin' fer ya."

* * *

Though he was wearing his warm, fur-lined parka, Ichigo shivered violently, attempting to hide the action as much as possible since he was currently in attendance of a meeting between the Tribal Council and the Avatar and his two southern friends. However ridiculous he thought the matter at hand, the orangette couldn't afford to lose face with the rest of the council should he fail to maintain a mask of perfect seriousness - legs crossed and tucked underneath him, back straight, expression impassive, and mouth shut.

"What do you want me to do? Force Master Pakku to take Aang back as his student?" his father, Chief Arnook, was currently saying to the Avatar's distraught female friend. Katara, if he remembered correctly.

"Yes - please!" the girl, Katara, said a tad sheepishly.

Ichigo wished he could interject and point out Avatar Aang's supposed crime of teaching waterbending to his friend shouldn't require punishment as it not only proved the prince's own opinion of the tribe's archaic gender-segregated teachings but also was simply an act of friendship and a demonstration the Avatar's ability to separate his morals from the law. Really, if the traveling companion of the world's savior was refused the opportunity to learn proper waterbending on the basis she was of the fairer sex than what was the fairness in allowing a boy a master's instruction merely because he was male? Bending was an art and so the chance to train in it should be available to those with true passion for learning its ways if there need be a restriction on those deemed worthy, but in all actuality true equality and justice would provide it to any capable pupil. Ichigo was already decided that if this were not the case at the time when he took his father's place as Tribal Chief, he would make it so.

"I suspect he might change his mind if you swallow your pride and apologize to him," Arnook said, trying to resolve the issue as peacefully as he was able. However, Ichigo watched as Katara's face morphed into a hateful scowl, the idea of apologizing to Master Pakku evidently not a favorable one. He couldn't blame her one bit, he'd had his fair share of conflict with the stodgy old waterbending teacher.

"I'm waiting, little girl," Pakku said disdainfully and Ichigo couldn't help but roll his eyes at the elder's immature behavior. Nevertheless, the one most offended was Katara whose fists balled up at her sides and glared up at the older man.

"No! No way am I apologizing to a sour old man like you!" she declared as her latent powers cracked jagged lines in the ice under her feet, automatically earning points in Ichigo's book. Standing up to a Master, let alone in front of an entire council, took serious guts and now the Southern Water Tribe girl was in Pakku's face, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Uh, Katara..." Aang murmured from the side of his mouth, clearly uncomfortable with the turn this meeting was taking.

"I'll be outside - if you're man enough to fight me!"

Ichigo's eyebrows shot up and he heard Yue gasp at his right, hands clasping over her mouth in surprise. No one spoke to members of the council, especially revered Master Pakku, as Katara had and the added of shock factors of the speaker belonging to the gender from which their tribe customarily expected sweetness and unfaltering obedience and she'd just challenged the master waterbender to _fight_. It just wasn't done, it was scandalous and irreverent and outlandish and... awesome. Ichigo mentally noted his undeniably repressed sister could learn a thing or two from this Katara chick, who was storming away from the council to make her dramatic exit.

"I'm sure she didn't mean that," Aang tried to reassure everyone. But beside him the brother of Katara, and the Tribal Prince's new one to watch considering the relationship rapidly developing between he and Yue, whose name Ichigo believed to be Sokka didn't think so.

"Yeh, I think she did," he whispered loudly to the Avatar and everyone else in the room silently agreed yet no one spoke a word until Master Pakku moved from his seat on the lower ledge to set his feet on the floor and begin following his challenger outside.

"Pakku, surely you're not going to seriously fight the girl?" Arnook exclaimed. "She's just a child."

"A child who needs to learn a lesson and I _am_ a teacher, am I not?" Pakku said, continuing to walk away. "No need for concern, of course I won't really fight the little girl, merely make a point is all." Then he disappeared into the bright, arctic daylight and again the hall was terribly quiet. After a moment, Aang and Sokka huffed exasperatedly and ran outside.

And, well, there was no way Ichigo was going to miss this showdown.

But as he moved to rise and follow the others through the doorway and down the steps, his father grasped his upper arm in one hand and stilled him. "This meeting is dismissed and the issue to be resolved at a later time. You all may take your leave now and we thank you for your attendance," Arnook announced, all of the tribal elders knowing it wasn't an option whether or not to leave and quickly making themselves scarce to leave the tribe's royal family to their privacy. "While it is a good idea to not become a spectator to the spectacle Pakku and our guest are sure to make in order to appear as neutral as we are, I need to speak with you and your sister."

Ichigo inwardly deflated, his recent history of family meetings not exactly positive and therefore dreading whatever it is the chief had to say to both he and Yue. He desperately pleaded with any of the spirits that may be listening that Arnook didn't want to talk about -

"Ichigo, I was hoping you could give me an update on how your search for a bride is going so far."

Never mind.

"Um, well I... I've been trying to narrow it down to the girls I like best," the orange-haired waterbender lied. He hadn't so much as directly looked at a female over twelve and under fifty years of age ever since his father told him a betrothal was required of him within the span of six weeks. He'd spent most of that time bemoaning his cowardice and how he was too afraid to admit to a single soul he was and always had been attracted to men and couldn't even imagine a relationship or intimacy with a woman.

"That's a good start but remember the perfect wife for you may not be the girl you think you like best at this time. Youth has a funny effect on the mind that way, it might lead you to believe the girl you're most... _physically _in tune with is the One to soon realize the two of you have nothing else in common," Arnook said and Ichigo was so mortified at the older man's hints to the teenage libido and physical acts of love his face burned a bright red, eyes firmly set on the ground for he couldn't even look at his father. "And you have to keep the good of our tribe in mind. Your wife will be as much of a leader as any council member, she needs to possess the qualities that make a woman truly extraordinary - as your mother did." Arnook's voice softened as he made mention of his late wife and the image of the woman who'd cared and loved Ichigo just as if he actually was the fruit of her womb flickering into his mind, embarrassment fading and replaced by a strange pleasant sorrow - the memory warming his heart even whilst he felt the painful ache of loss.

"And as Yue does," the chief added on, looking from his son to the white-haired princess with a small smile and Ichigo saw her blue eyes shimmer in flattered pleasure. "Ah, if you could be so fortunate to find a girl like your sister, Ichigo, you would know the joy I felt with your mother."

"I don't think I'll be that lucky," the orangette said, sighing. "I don't know if I'll be able to find anyone at all, actually. Six weeks is rather brief to make one of the biggest decisions of my life." He hoped Arnook caught on to the 'unintended' meaning behind what he was saying. His father was a kind and generous man, if not a bit stuck in his ways. Perhaps he would prolong Ichigo's grace period, or eliminate the necessity the boy secure a bride to marry in under two months' time altogether. But that was too much to wish for and not in the cards for the tribal heir.

"Well you won't with that attitude, son! Chin up, now. Confidence attracts the ladies, which you would know if you spent all the time you use to practice waterbending socializing with kids your age," the chief exclaimed in good humor, ruffling his son's head of tangerine hair so it was messier than ever. He gave the princess a kiss on the forehead and then slid from the ledge to the floor, saluting his children with two fingers before exiting through a side door and leaving in a rus to attend to chiefly duties in need of his attention. Having a Tribal Chief for a father meant a pretty small amount of familial quality time and any talks they had were fleeting and brief.

"Don't listen to him, Ichigo. I think it's amazing you dedicate so much of yourself to your waterbending, which I know rivals Tui and La themselves, even if no one's seen you bend in years," Yue said, laughing as she spoke the last part as she attempted to comfort her brother and succeeded. "If anything, the one you're meant to be with will love you for it - maybe even fall for you somewhat _because_ of your passion and incredible gift for the art of waterbending. They would have to, now that I think about it; it's part of who you are."

"Great Spirits, Yue, you always sound like one of those wisewomen up in the healing huts. How did you get so smart about love, anyway?" Ichigo said, chuckling and shaking his head. "Speaking of which, shouldn't you be off cavorting with that boomerang guy?" He knew the boy's name, of course, but refused to give someone who'd so easily stolen his sister's affections the courtesy of referring to them by name. The faraway look in Yue's eyes and flushed cheeks told him all he needed to know and he sighed dramatically. "Go," he said, the word drawn out in playful exasperation.

"You're the best brother ever," Yue said, hugging him tightly for a few seconds and then rushing from the hall to wherever she'd agreed to meet a boy Ichigo would secretly admit an astronomically better match for her than dimwitted, narcissistic Kahn.

If the spirit of love were to do her job correctly, Princess Yue would never have to marry that boorish pig and Ichigo would never know wedded bliss, not ever. And yet, he supposed it was hard for her to work when Fate and Destiny were eternally screwing things up.

* * *

Ichigo was in his favored place of the Spirit Oasis when he first saw the falling snow black as night, its appearance doubtlessly a terrible omen. The moment the ebony snowflake in his hand melted, he ran from the sacred ground all the way to the center of city of ice, arriving in the entryway of the meeting hall panting and sweating due to the exertion of sprinting such a long distance.

Startlingly, it seemed he was far behind the rest of the tribe for Chief Arnook had already gathered his people in the space and was projecting his voice in a commanding way as he spoke to the crowd. Behind him sat Yue and Master Pakku, the empty spot between them making the prince's absence glaringly obvious, but Ichigo decided to stay in the back, leaning his back against the wall made of ice.

"The day we have feared for so long has arrived. The Fire Nation is on our doorstep. It is with great sadness I call my family here before me, knowing well that some of these faces are about to vanish from our tribe. But they will never vanish from our hearts. Now, as we approach the battle for our existence, I call upon the great spirits! Spirit of the Ocean! Spirit of the Moon! Be with us!" Arnook proclaimed emphatically, raising his arms to the heavens whilst the effects of his rousing speech made themselves known within Ichigo, heart beating like one of their tribal drums and making his ears and throat throb almost painfully as the anxious knots in his stomach unraveled to cause his gut to clench in thrilling, restless anticipation bordering on dread. His body responded even as his mind refused to believe it. The invasion of his home by Fire Nation soldiers and their war machines the stuff of his worst nightmares, something he never expected though in the deepest recesses of his mind accepted as inevitable.

And it was happening right now. Metal ships of death were sailing toward their city in the surrounding waters, ruining the pristine arctic landscape with toxic, mechanical soot and grime. The Fire Nation wanted to destroy or claim the Northern Water Tribe, maybe even both, and Ichigo was consumed by the desire, the need, to protect the only home he'd ever known. And in all honesty he could hold his ground against a fleet of Fire Nation ships, and he would.

"I'm going to need volunteers for a dangerous mission," Arnook cut through the orangette's thoughts and Ichigo barely understood what it was his father had said until the determined voice of Sokka reverberated throughout the hall.

"Count me in."

The boy's sister cried his name while other men followed his example, rising to their feet, and from across the room Ichigo could make out his own sister's fear and despair cross her beautiful features. Yue had fallen hard and fast for the Southern Water Tribe boy, nearly impossibly so, and the tribal prince was reminded of his earlier ponderings on the spirits of love and Fate and how one always conflicted with the other creating chaos and strife and unfathomable sorrow.

"Be warned: many of you will not return. Come forward to receive my mark if you accept the task."

When Chief Arnook painted the three red lines of a warrior upon Sokka's forehead, Ichigo did not miss the look the boy gave Yue, who turned her head away from that searching gaze as tears trailed down her face. The orangette knew they were only the first to be shed in the trying times ahead.

Feeling he needed a brief moment of quiet solitude to collect his thoughts, he slipped outside unnoticed and experienced one of life's bitter ironies as his attempt at a sliver of peace met a violent end. He hadn't even reached the steps before a thunderous boom pierced through the once still air, his eyes snapping up to witness a massive ball of fire crash into the city's outer wall, its destructive power immense as it tore a gaping wound into the fortified structure. He was frozen in horrified shock for what seemed like an eternity, people rushing out from the meeting hall past his paralyzed form, their screams sounding full of fear and very far away.

* * *

An hour later found Ichigo in the tribe's warrior barracks and armory, currently in a side room Chief Arnook had pulled him into so they could speak in private. Well, he wasn't speaking as much as he was shouting in outrage and indignation - emotions he felt were totally justified considering what his father had just told him.

"You can't be serious! Tell me you're only making some sort of awful joke!" he was saying, pacing back and forth.

"Ichigo, please calm yourself," the chief said. "This is the worst possible situation for you to be irrational."

"You think I don't know that?" Ichigo snapped, his tone not one he ever used with his father. "But how can I be calm after you just now said I'm supposed to twiddle my thumbs and do nothing while my home is under attack? I came of age over a year ago yet you're still treating me like a child!"

"You will cease speaking to me with such disrespect at once," Arnook commanded in his deep, authoritative voice, dark brown brows furrowing in a slight frown that held more impact than the fiercest glare. Ichigo immediately paused mid-step, facing the older man with a bowed head, properly chastised like the child he claimed not to be. "I do not recall ever telling you anything of the sort and it offends me you could think I would ever demand that of you."

"But... you said-"

"I said that you will not join the warriors when they infiltrate the Fire Nation army and neither will you stand among the defence's forces. Had you not jumped to the absurd conclusion I planned to have you do nothing you would already know your place during this battle is not with either of those is because I need you elsewhere," the chief said, placing his hands on Ichigo's shoulders and directing a steely gaze down at the younger man. "For reasons you've chosen not to share, from the moment you were declared a Master you have only practiced waterbending in secrecy. For half a decade despite the council's concern and my own I have kept silent on the subject, but now our people are in grave danger and dire need of your help - can I trust you to give it to them? "

"The Spirits themselves couldn't stop me," Ichigo said. Rather than feeling insulted by his father's uncertainty of whether or not he would rise to the occasion, the lingering doubt that the chief and the rest of the tribe had in the back of their minds only served to strengthen his determination. He would prove himself to the entire Northern Water Tribe deserving to hold the title of Master, and someday in the far off future - Tribal Chief.

Not to mention his reasons for isolating himself would now be in his favor.

"That's what I thought," Arnook said, frown lifting into a sad, barely there smile. "That's why I've chosen you for what may be considered the most important role of them all, something befitting of the future Chief."

"And that is...?" Ichigo trailed off, mentally running through a list of possibilities, unable to pinpoint a specific one as the most likely, as his father removed the hands from his shoulders and ambled over to the room's single window boasting a magnificent view of the sprawling city and its canals. After arching a tangerine brow, the orangette joined Arnook by the window.

"For the duration of the battle we will be relocating women, children, and the elderly to a secure location - our own home to be exact. I've already stationed guards to stand watch but a handful of warriors could never hope to hold their ground should the Fire Nation's troops advance that far and find the stronghold where those unable to fight are being kept, the Spirits forbid it ever happen. The majority of our people will end up at the mercy of the enemy, unless there is one last line of defense capable of protecting them." Arnook sighed, resting an elbow at eye-level on the side of the window. "Not a single soul in the entire tribe would have a prayer. Save for you, Ichigo."

A large part of the Tribal Prince was underwhelmed by the nature of the task, disappointed he wouldn't be on the front lines where all of the action would take place and his opportunity to finally utilize the numerous waterbending moves he'd invented to make those Fire Nation scum regret the day they lay siege to_ his_ home. A bitter voice in his head snarled the position was no more than a glorified babysitter and forced him to stand around waiting for something that might happen while every other capable man clashed with the enemy.

However, another part of him cast the assignment in a better light. His whole life had been dedicated to serving his tribe who one day would become his subjects; he should be honored to defend the defenseless and take on the task for which he and he alone had the potential to succeed.

"I suppose it goes without saying there's a great chance this battle could end with you seceding me as Tribal Chief earlier than expected," Arnook murmured, an unusual behavior for a man normally strikingly composed and imposing.

"That won't happen," Ichigo stated resolutely, unwilling to imagine let alone plan for a future so awful.

"I hope so, son, but war is an expert in changing lives in phenomenal, ever lasting ways. There is no telling what we'll see when the smoke clears, only that it will be different. Yet we still send prayers to the Spirits for the world to be as it was, even when we feel the winds of change on our face."

And right then, a draft of cold air blew through the window, ruffling Ichigo's hair and carrying a scent of burning fumes and arctic waters that made his eyes and throat sting. These winds definitely carried with them a promise of change he couldn't determine as bad or good, just so incredible nothing would ever again be the same.

* * *

This was the single most boring act of war Grimmjow had ever participated in.

Their fleet had dealt the first blow around midday and it was now hours past sunset and all he'd done was witness the battle from afar as a spectator. It was absolutely infuriating to watch everyone else have all the fun, his skin practically itching with desire to get in on the action when he knew he couldn't as doing so would ruin his plans for his personal mission. Restraint was a trouble spot for him, especially when tested by the lure of the fight.

Grimmjow had wished the skiffs full of waterbenders or even the Avatar and his sky bison would attack his ship, or just move within range so he could engage them himself. Alas, they hadn't come remotely close enough, the front lines of the Fire Nation's massive navy proving too much of a challenge for them to make their way to where his ship sailed in the center of the fleet, next to Commander Zhao's. Oh, what torture he'd suffered that day.

But it was easier on him now that combat had ceased for the evening due to a strategic retreat until daybreak suggested by General Iroh since waterbenders drew their strength from the moon and would inevitably grow more powerful at night. Surprisingly, Commander Zhao had listened to the man's advice and ordered for all advances to desist immediately and resume at sunrise. This left the area eerily quiet and deceptively peaceful, Grimmjow hearing not a sound at his position leaning on the iron rail on the bow of his ship. All of the crew members were below deck in his vessel as well as those surrounding it.

Now that explosions weren't clouding the air in thick, gray smoke the blue-haired admiral could clearly see the arctic landscape of the Northern Water Tribe. About as different from its sister tribe in the south pole as black and white, the city carved entirely from ice made for an impressive sight - or at least the part that was visible through the damaged remains of the outer wall did. To Grimmjow's slight misfortune he wasn't able to make out enough of the city to begin speculating on where they might be hiding his target.

Speaking of which, the day before the firebender had been able to acquire some more information on the Tribal Prince thanks to classified documents delivered by messenger hawk from the Fire Lord himself. Apparently Prince Ichigo's capture really was of great importance to Lord Ozai, more so than Grimmjow had originally believed.

From the new intelligence, he learned a good deal more about the royal waterbending prodigy, some facts proving to be quite interesting. For example, the prince wasn't even of noble blood, his real parents the last two waterbenders of the Southern Water Tribe wiped out by the Fire Nation raid and somehow their infant son had been adopted by Chief Arnook and his wife at the other end of the world. Also, at the age of twelve when the Tribal Prince was declared a Master was allegedly the last time he was seen waterbending in public - something that made Grimmjow even more eager to duel the boy out of sheer curiosity. Lastly there was a little tidbit he thought amusing; the Water Tribe icon's natural hair color was a bright orange, quoted to resemble the rising sun. It was good to know he wasn't the only person out there cursed with features the color of their opposite element.

A snort of amusement left him right before a blur of movement to his left caught his attention. Casually rolling his head over to apprehend the source, he certainly didn't expect it to turn out as a figure in plain, gray clothes preparing to lower a lifeboat from Zhao's ship to the water. Grimmjow, as swiftly and quietly as possible, slid down the railing to get a better view of this mystery person and what they were doing this late at night sans any kind of uniform or armor.

The person stilled and the admiral immediately did the same, wondering if they'd seen him, but then another figure appeared in the ship's opening, so recognizable their identity was deciphered in an instant. Just as that information led to the suspicion who the first could be they were embraced by the other and then let go in order to jump into the lifeboat, moving directly into the light and confirming Grimmjow's suspicions. The man who still stood in the portal watching the other descend to the ocean surface was General Iroh and there was no mistaking the tragically scarred face of the youth leaving his uncle behind, someone that was supposed to be dead.

But with his own eyes Grimmjow was looking at a very much alive Prince Zuko.

Grimmjow hadn't believed Zhao's story of pirates murdering the banished prince of the Fire Nation from the second it left those lying lips, yet the commander had appeared truthful when he'd given the announcement even though his sorrow had been a transparent veil for how pleased he was at the news. That could only be if Zhao honestly trusted his adversary in the capture of the Avatar was no longer but Zuko had been right on his own ship.

Then Grimmjow realized that the prince and his uncle were perpetrating a ruse to allow Commander Zhao think the teenager really was dead while Prince Zuko lived on right under his nose like the fool he was. That way the prince could sail along with the man to the Northern Water Tribe and straight to the Avatar, who Zuko was most likely on his way in the ship's lifeboat to apprehend singlehandedly. The blunette felt a surge of pride for his former pupil. That was the kind of cunning and ambition of a future Fire Lord. He followed the lifeboat's route through the maze of metal vessels until the prince vanished into the darkness surrounding the frozen shores of the Northern Water Tribe, wondering if the infamously ornery youth would be successful this time after three years of failure and if things would be different had he not been forced to abruptly leave his position as tutor for one as a captain.

Despite being wrapped up in his own thoughts, Grimmjow's keen ears detected the noise of footsteps on the stairs leading up to the deck. He glanced over his shoulder to assess the newcomer, recognizing it as one of his lieutenants, and then fully turned around to face the man who knew from experience to spit out whatever he had to say to the impatient admiral instead of waiting to be addressed.

"I procured the items you asked for, Admiral sir," the lieutenant said, holding out a lumpy parcel wrapped in brown paper and string.

Grimmjow stalked forward and grabbed the thing from the other's hands, swiftly tearing its covering off to reveal a folded pile of navy blue fabric and white Arctic wolf fur. Smirking in approval, he dismissed his lieutenant with a wave of his hand and returned to his position leaning against the deck's railing. His gaze traveled back to the city under siege, thinking both that he needed to be patient just for a little while longer and that he would look good in blue and white.

* * *

Ichigo had never loved the sight of sunset so much.

However, this was because he mistakenly believed the Fire Nation troops would once again retreat until morning to avoid fighting against waterbenders under a full moon, the night they were their most powerful. He thought perhaps now he could find it in him to sleep or eat since the first night he'd refused both, too wired with restless energy for either. At the very least he could have a bit of reprieve from the agony of watching and listening to the tribe's warriors and benders fight against the onslaught of Fire Nation soldiers and somehow resisting the almost uncontrollable urge to rush to their defense, emotion violently wrestling with logic. It turned out this was not the case. Rather than falling back, the enemy's forces advanced even farther into the city, their benders, komodo rhinos, and weaponized machines all wreaking destruction everywhere they went.

From where he was located in the third story balcony of his palacial home near the opposite end of the outer wall Ichigo had witnessed just about everything that had occurred the past two days, including the single positive sight of his sister riding the Avatar's sky bison far above the dangers below. He commanded himself to remember every other minute his house was shelter to the majority of his tribe, the first floor now a makeshift infirmary for the wounded in addition to those incapable of defending themselves, and it was his duty as Tribal Prince and natural instinct to protect them.

So in his worst nightmares he never imagined being unable to even save himself that night.

"Prince Ichigo!"

The orangette whipped around from the edge of the balcony as he heard someone calling his name and was met with the breathless form of one of the warriors assigned to guard the safehouse. He'd obviously just sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him all the way to where Ichigo stood on the balcony. "What is it? Have any more men been injured?" the teenager accosted the guard, inwardly begging for the news not to be a report of harm to his father or especially his sister.

"Five of them; four warriors, one bender. The men here including myself have been called to join the others at the outer wall," the guard said between breathless pants.

"Then what are you still doing here?" Ichigo said, scowling in disapproval of the man leaving his comrades to the flames of the enemy for even longer to deliver a message the prince would've easily surmised on his own when those in the guard hurried to their tribe's aid. Luckily, the warrior understood the question was rhetorical and immediately raced from the balcony to reappear not a minute later on the ground below leading a dozen other warriors to battle.

Running a hand through his hair, Ichigo made himself take a deep breath, the sensation of bitterly cold air being pulled into his lungs welcomingly invigorating after a sleepless night. With he the last capable protector left guarding those inside the royals' home he needed the potential to strike assailants the instant they appeared, and if things kept going the way they were that was all too likely. He had a good view from where he stood on the tall balcony but when he did spy a spot of red and black closing in on them he would have too short a time to make his way to the ground. It was decided, then.

Ichigo ensured none inside the icy structure noticed him secretly descending from the third story balcony to the first floor, something made easier by how their attention was directed towards each other and the wounded and he slipped outside with no one the wiser. He crossed the twenty foot spanse of ice between the building and a four way intersection of canals, the unofficial royal palace unique in its construction since it was angled to face the center of said intersection. While this quality was to his disadvantage in that enemy troops could readily find him and the rest of the Water Tribe it also rendered it impossible for anyone to sneak up and surprise him in an ambush. He brought his gaze to sweep the surrounding area and awed at how awfully bizarre it was to see not another living soul anywhere near while listening to the hellish, discordant melody of war. And thus began the wait.

The Tribal Prince didn't have to wait for very long to find out his belief no one could surprise him couldn't have been more wrong.

Ichigo swore he glanced to the sky for sign of the Avatar's bison for a few seconds when he lowered his stare back to the earth to see him standing on the corner directly opposite the orangette. If man could materialize from thin air Ichigo would insist the one he was facing had done it, but it wasn't and fleetingly he wondered whether the other was mortal and not of the Spirit World.

The figure across the canal intersection was clearly male, their height of six feet and some inches and broad-shouldered shape a dead giveaway, and they were dressed in a navy blue parka and pants, a hood trimmed in ivory fur pulled so far over their head shadows hid their entire face. Noting this strange man carried no weapon and appeared to be alone promptly sent alarm bells ringing in Ichigo's head, primal intuition taking over as it sensed threat. Intending to call from the corner of his street to its mirror a demand this person identify themselves right away and should they refuse he'd attack regardless of their true allegiance, the words died in his throat the moment a hand pulled the hood away to reveal the stranger's face.

Somehow the vision froze him to the spot, unable to move an inch from laying eyes upon something so terribly stunning it was like staring straight into the sun, so supernaturally out of this world beautiful it hurt, and again Ichigo thought it possible this entity he faced wasn't a mere mortal. In fact, this man with his head of radiant morning sky blue hair and electrically azure orbs of storm lightning for eyes looked very much like La, the ocean spirit, himself had taken the shape of a man and now stood right there in front of him.

However, Ichigo's mind was affected in a contrasting manner and it started to move at incredible speed, reasoning even though this man wore the traditional attire of the Northern Water Tribe he couldn't possibly be a fellow tribe member. Ichigo wouldn't forget a face like that, not ever. No one would forget such a portrait of masculine loveliness, the image of that divinely handsome face seared into the conscience for an eternity.

"You have no idea how pleased I am to have finally found you, Your Highness."

Of course the first man Ichigo considered remotely attractive turned out to be firebending, arrogant, bloodthirsty, repulsive Fire Nation scum.

* * *

Grimmjow was ecstatic to at long last face the elusive, highly desired young royal, on the precipice of perhaps the fight of a lifetime and more excited than he had been in years.

It hadn't proved easy to clandestinely enter the Water Tribe city's walls and travel through the streets disguised as one of their own in search of the place they'd stashed Tribal Prince Ichigo to keep the boy hidden and safe from people like him. The massive labyrinth of canals and identical buildings had been a herculean challenge to navigate and the admiral had spent nearly an hour hunting his prey until he'd come to the corner of where four canals crossed paths, the glimpse of brilliant orange in the endlessly pale landscape like an electric shock in the best way.

But of all the things Grimmjow had thought about what Tribal Prince Ichigo could be he never considered nor expected his bounty to be downright _gorgeous_.

That head of hair that really did match the radiance of the rays of the setting sun and its shade of golden tangerine perfectly complemented tawny, flawless skin and luminescent dark amber eyes more expressive than any other pair he'd seen framed with thick, lush lashes. The only part of his body visible was the younger male's exquisite face surely a piece of art created by the spirit of beauty during an inspired frenzy of creativity. And yet from what the firebender could tell all that prince's heavy parka and other warm clothing shielded from Grimmjow's hungry gaze was every bit as delectable.

Nevertheless, it seemed the poor thing wasn't quite as gifted in other respects. Almost a whole minute had passed since Grimmjow had spoken and still Prince Ichigo merely stared at him, completely motionless. "Not much of a talker, are you?" he said to break the silence, arching an eyebrow. "That's a bit of a disappointment. I like a little trash talk before a fight."

"And who the hell are you, again?" the prince snapped in a pleasant baritone easily heard in spite of the distance, casually sliding his left foot back into a defensive stance. "I mean, you obviously know who I am, returning the favor is good sportsmanship, but taken that only a coward would disguise himself in stolen clothes I guess I can't expect much of you."

The devious grin that appeared whilst Grimmjow watched Prince Ichigo shake off the temporary paralysis and fall back into his natural demeanor, confident and displaying the signs of a trained fighter - deep, calming breaths, relaxed but strong stance, eyes bright and alert, threatened to eat Grimmjow's entire face, the effect feral and reminiscent of that of a man gone stark raving mad. The admiral played along willingly. There was an undeniable surge of pleasure derived from the thought of revealing his identity, the boy knowing the rest of his life who bested him, and of any his past opponents, Grimmjow thought the teen foremost deserved the pinch of respect. But he liked to keep things exciting.

"Oh, to the contrary, Your Highness, you can expect _a lot _of me," the blue-haired man said smugly, upper lip curling even further. "And you can have my name if you accept my challenge: a fight in Agni Kai style. A match between you and me using nothing beside our bending abilities, one on one, your water against my fire, whoever surrenders or can no longer bend is the loser and the victor decides their fate."

The orange-haired male frowned deeply, evidently detecting the oddity of an enemy proposing something so structured in the midst of an army's siege of an entire nation. Grimmjow definitely wouldn't be too thrilled if Prince Ichigo declined his offer; their duel promised to be one for the books even if the younger of the two didn't realize it yet.

"Bad move on your part but honestly I want to kick some Fire Nation ass too much to spare any of you bastards," the waterbender said, huffing in resignation as he gave in to the battlelust he spoke of and unknowingly delighting his challenger to no ends - repressed anger and violence always made for powerful displays of element bending. "I accept."

"Good choice." Grimmjow widened his own stance, already beginning to summon the flames he would manipulate to do his bidding from deep within.

"Now you give me your name, remember?" His Highness pressed as if he truly cared about obtaining that particular piece of information, which was really very flattering and yet a little curious. "You said I could have it if I accepted your offer to fight against each other."

"I lied," the admiral said. "Traditionally since I challenged you, you're allowed the first move so whenever you're ready give me your best shot."

"Why did I know a firebender like you wouldn't keep your word?" Ichigo said, eyes narrowing but not making any other bit of movement lest taking the opportunity to attack his opponent.

"Probably because you have a vendetta against firebenders, just like the other million people who do," Grimmjow said, scoffing as the self-righteous kid started down the path to the same thing the admiral had heard over and over and over again, interwoven with a sob story of how the Hundred Year War had personally affected them, and ranted on until he nearly died of boredom. He couldn't allow the orange-haired brat to go any farther. "Can we start, now? I'm not exactly a patient man."

The words had barely left Grimmjow's lips when the ice beneath his feet cracked menacingly, his eyes widening in realization as the sound of rushing water reached his ears. Acting on pure reflexes alone, he dived to the left and landed crouched low to the ground on the edge as a column of water surged up from where he'd been standing thirty feet into the air. Quickly over his initial shock at the speed of Ichigo's attack - he hadn't seen the waterbender move a finger - Grimmjow's grin was unstoppable, his gaze flicking back to the orangette whose expression betrayed the smallest hint of self-satisfaction.

Finally.

Using a technique few knew of to bend flames from his feet to strengthen his motions as well as add mobility, Grimmjow rose several feet in the air and glided across the canal, narrowly avoiding a torrential wave that would have been devastating had he been struck. His fists burst into flames, his upper arms engulfed in red hot flames he still didn't unleash upon his enemy. Ichigo's first two attacks had been strong but nowhere near where the blunette wanted them to be. He knew the kid could do better than that and he outright refused to settle for mediocre after he came all the way to the godforsaken _north pole _for the best.

Even now Ichigo was simply standing there, waiting to defend against his counterattack - unacceptable. It was plain bad manners to withhold from using the full strength of his abilities on the admiral who'd so graciously extended the invitation he'd accepted. However, Grimmjow's brutal nature swiftly stepped in to offer a suggestion for a way he could force the waterbender into kicking it up a notch and really putting his back into it.

A surefire plan in mind, the blue-haired man descending to stand on the ice below him, bring him the closest to the prince he'd been so far. His keen eyes swept over Ichigo's stiff form, recognizing the familiar signs of the boy's inner struggle with two sides of himself, the one telling him to maintain absolute control over his power and the other urging him to give in to his desire to let go, he was merely in need of a good shove in the right direction.

"Come on, it's not the time to be shy!" Grimmjow yelled, his demeanor one of a manic, sadistic glee revelling in the thrill of the moment during which he led by example and through seconds of meditation allowed something in the farthest recesses of himself free. His right hand shot out in front of him, palm open and fingers halfway extended, and through it propelled a monstrous explosion of blinding flames wider and taller than the building behind Ichigo full of innocent citizens it was headed straight for.

Grimmjow almost believed for a second that the orangette had fallen victim and the building had caught fire, but before any such doubt could manifest completely the inferno was torn in half. The parting then showed Ichigo riding the curve of a full on tsunami higher than any of the surrounding structures and rendering every last lick of flame to steam. Then in a magnificent display of waterbending the great tsunami suddenly froze altogether, the orange-haired youth responsible sliding down sideways on a ramp made of ice and coming to a stop to face his opponent with a ferocious glare of anger-driven determination Grimmjow thought may be the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Now we're talking!" the firebender exclaimed, his enthusiasm blatantly apparent. He wasted no time leaning forward slightly and kicking off, fire once more boosting him from the soles of his feet and looking as if he were ice skating in midair. Ichigo raised both of his arms out to the side, pillars of ice mimicking their motion, and then with a mystifyingly basic gesture sliced both of them into a number of thin discs that flew through the air toward their intended target of blue-haired firebender. Grimmjow maneuvered to dodge them all and touched down on the same block of ice the other stood on, immediately defending against a barrage of crystal daggers with an expertly executed fan kick that drew an impressive arch of fire.

He returned with a series of lightning fast punches that produced a torrent of fire blasts distracting Ichigo enough for him to advance closer. Firebending was ideal for close combat whereas waterbending was more suited for long range attacks. Once the boy was within reach, Grimmjow jumped to spin kick a blast of flames, landing on one foot so he could automatically push off with the next and never had to stop moving. Closing in on his target again, he saw Ichigo had protected himself right in time by bending water in between him and the flames, freezing it into a solid shield strong enough to withstand the heat.

The youth's retaliation was two strategically aimed water whips, snapping out to seize Grimmjow's wrist and ankle and throw him to the ground. He hit the slick surface hard, sliding a few feet on his side. This was the first time in a long while he could remember another bender landing a successful attack on him and after the older man rid himself of shock he began laughing in utter delight. Rising from the ground with vigor, he took one look at the expression on Ichigo's face and knew his good mood confused His Highness.

"What? You're not having fun, too?" Grimmjow called out playfully, bringing hands closed save for his pointer and middle fingers over his head down in a circle to the center of his chest and then straight out to the side. Blazing jets of the destructive element streaked from his fingertips, seemingly endless as they created a towering ring of fire around the two benders, cutting them off from everything else. "Don't lie to me, I know you are; your eyes give you away. You love finally not having to hold back, a real challenge."

Ichigo said nothing to that, which Grimmjow considered as good as a confession that he spoke the truth. They were both relishing in the rarity of the freedom to lose complete and total control, a rush so addictive there was a danger they wouldn't ever regain it but that just made it all the more exhilarating. Then something strange happened, followed by something even stranger.

Grimmjow felt the ground beneath him begin to quake and rumble and the ice crack as they had done in the very beginning of their fight. But he was staring straight at Ichigo and the boy was standing absolutely still, his brows drawn together tightly as if he were... concentrating. Suddenly, the curtain of fire behind Ichigo was eaten by the dark blue maw of a surge water swelling bigger and higher with every second the passed by, looming threateningly over that head of orange hair.

The unshakable Fire Nation admiral was now left speechless, unsure whether or not to believe what he was seeing to be reality. Was it somehow in some way possible that the man before him was bending water using only his _mind_?

However, his query was soon forgotten as a bloody reddish glow fell over the whole city and the mass of water dropped from the sky to disappear back down into the canals in great splashes that soared stories high. Grimmjow glanced all around yet saw nothing to which he could accredit the series of events, looking back to his opponent to find Ichigo list to the side and stumble to regain his footing, confused brown eyes searching above. Following the orangette's line of vision, the firebender saw that the round moon wasn't its usual shade of ivory but rather a bizarre crimson.

When he brought his gaze back to earth, he instinctually growled under his breath at seeing the retreating back of his bounty. If Ichigo thought he could run away from him the royal brat was sorely mistaken. Grimmjow broke into a run, grudgingly chasing after the prince, and after a couple of steps understandings slammed into him like a komodo rhino: if waterbenders draw their power from the moon so if anything happened to the celestial body they would also be affected - when the immense wave had so suddenly plummeted downward had been the moment Ichigo lost his ability to waterbend.

Hence why the blue-haired man was now tearing through the city after the kid, attempting to follow that spot of orange among the sea of pale bluish architecture. Unfortunately, Ichigo was faster than he looked and he also had the advantage of knowing the city like the back of his hand whereas Grimmjow could very easily lose his way within the endless mass of streets that all looked exactly the same and not too much later he must have taken a wrong somewhere for there was no sign of the Tribal Prince anywhere.

That was when the moon went black, plunging the entire Northern Water Tribe into darkness. Though he realized there was definitely something otherworldly behind the current unnatural events, he couldn't afford to stop and assess the situation when meanwhile his main objective for being there put even more distance between them. And yet, the moment a brilliant azure light appeared at the very edge of the city the instinctive and sometimes smarter part of him took over, forcing him to stop right then and there.

As if there hadn't been enough of the supernatural for one night, Grimmjow helplessly stared in an open awe he hadn't known since he was a child as the glowing mass amplified to a staggering height far, far above the buildings below and molded itself into the shape of some sort of creature resembling a fish bearing arms rather than fins and its center there formed a bubble where the figure of the Avatar was suspended. Then this creature made of ethereal light embarked on a descent from the top of the city.

For some inexplicable reason, Grimmjow didn't feel any enmity from this creature made of ethereal light and so when it passed where he was standing witness he never sensed it as a threat. He held its gaze without fear, those gleaming eyes seeing right into his soul, before it moved on. The blunette required a moment or two until he recovered from the uncanny experience, remembering the pressing matter at hand and instantly picking up where he'd left off hunting the waterbending prince down.

He ended up at the very end of the city limits, signified by an ornately carved wall equipped with what appeared to be a small, round portal, and it was then that he finally again caught sight of Prince Ichigo, who was rushing toward said wall as if his life depended on it. Grimmjow snarled in vexation, tired of playing a game of cat and mouse he hadn't started in the first place, and tore across the snow-covered ground. So fixated on finishing his mission, the admiral didn't notice the return of the moon to the night sky. Nevertheless, he did notice Ichigo stopping dead in his tracks, then falling to his knees right in front of the wall's portal.

Grimmjow slowed his pace to edge his way closer to where the orange-haired youth knelt in a position of utter defeat, hands before him in the snow and head bowed. He had no idea what the boy was in such visible agony over but he figured it had to be something of grave importance. A few feet away from Ichigo's kneeling form the older man barely heard the other's choked whisper.

"_I didn't even get to say goodbye_."

Jabbing his thumb into the youth's pressure point was likely an act of mercy, the admiral catching Ichigo's unconscious body as it fell forward and hoisting it over his shoulder. Though it probably wouldn't seem that way to the Tribal Prince when he woke up aboard a Fire Nation ship.

* * *

**A/N: **_Forgive me, but I'm just totally into this story right now. The past two days I spent re-watching season two of Avatar and I fell back in love with the series, and Zuko, of course. I do so have a thing for handsome, obsessive antagonists turned antihero turned protagonist with scars and uncontrollable bouts of rage. ;P _

_Okay, action scenes including element bending? Possibly the hardest thing I've ever had to write, and this is the only the beginning... _

_Coming up in the next chapter we'll probably be entering the Earth Kingdom and since so many of you asked, almost all of the major characters will make an appearance at some point so whoever it is you want to see you most likely will. _


	3. staring at the sun

_chapter three: staring at the sun_

* * *

"_You're so beautiful when you hate the world." ~ Zuko_

* * *

Darkness greeted Ichigo when he awoke several hours later.

At first he couldn't remember anything, or at least none of the events of the past two days, and for a few peaceful seconds he believed he was lying in bed in his palatial home in the Northern Water Tribe. Then he felt the cold metal cinched around his wrists and in a single instant, reality crashed into him with all the unforgiving force of tsunami waves, pulling him into an undertow of grief and drowning him in his own despair. He unwillingly cried out, an agonized bay of sorrow, but managed to muffle the sound by burying his face into the pillow.

Deep down he'd always known this day would come and yet never wanted to admit it to himself, never wanted to accept the painful truth of his sister's destiny.

However, when the full moon's glow turned blood red he no longer had a choice.

Ichigo knew he'd never felt more terrified than he had those excruciatingly long minutes he spent racing against time to get to the Spirit Oasis. And the fact that a dangerous, probably mentally unstable firebender was surely hot on his heels hadn't crossed his mind once. He hadn't even stopped when the phenomenal embodiment of _La _had risen from the city's peak and began to descend. Somehow the prince's subconscious had known the ocean spirit meant him no harm, not when they shared a spiritual connection galaxies more powerful than the average waterbender. It had seemed as if the spirit's appearance actually strengthened his resolve as well as his physical body and every fiber of his being had burned with the need to find his sister before the inevitable.

And still, he failed, Fate praying her cruelest trick. Ichigo remembered the disbelief and loss and anguish that wracked his body as he finally made it to the Spirit Oasis to witness the moon's glorious return home to its starry throne in the midnight sky.

The sensation of an emptiness in his soul from losing his bending was only replaced by a tight, breathless ache and he'd fallen to his knees in the snow, a tortured whisper leaving his lips the last thing he can recall before a brief pain in his neck and the world disappearing into a black abyss.

His face still hidden in the pillow, Ichigo's throat constricted and he screwed his eyes shut against the moist stinging that followed. His mind was helplessly consumed by an onslaught of thoughts, a poisonous brew of guilt and anger and pure misery.

_You should have helped her._

_You should have saved her._

_You should have protected her._

_You are why your father weeps for another lost love._

_You are why you will never see her again._

_You are why your beautiful, kind, innocent sister can never live the full life she deserved._

_You are why she is dead._

Despite his efforts, a tear escaped the corner of his eye and trailed down his cheek. Ichigo turned over onto his back, staring unseeingly into the pitch black atmosphere of wherever he was and attempting to take deep breaths and compose himself. He was a grown man, he didn't cry.

After a minute or two, the orangette's breathing evened out and the blurriness of tears receded from his vision, the unadulterated heartache he hadn't experienced since his adoptive mother's death remaining, too potent to control. Nevertheless, Ichigo felt a surge of new emotions flow into the ones already inside him. After all, only a big brother could feel so sad and yet so proud.

The moon had given Princess Yue life and she had given it back. His younger sister had made the greatest sacrifice in order to restore balance to all four nations. Not even a bender herself, she was the reason why his and every other waterbender's abilities were revived, giving him back a part of his soul without which he couldn't live. Singlehandedly, Yue had saved the world.

Though Ichigo would miss her, his sibling and best friend, terribly he knew one day he would be able to look up at the lunar orb of radiant luminescence and just feel honored to be the brother to the girl who became the moon.

Unfortunately, that was only the half of it, for the Tribal Prince had something else troubling him and that was where in the name of the Great Spirits was he. Clearly he'd been captured and taken prisoner, most likely at the hands of that blue-haired firebender who'd challenged him to a fight to the finish and then possibly chased him through the labyrinth of city streets after the moon darkened and Ichigo fled, but to where? Who knew how long the teenager had been unconscious; he could very well be on the other side of the world.

Calming his quickened heartbeat, Ichigo decided to use his blindness to his advantage and put his heightened sense of hearing to work. As he listened for the slightest noise that may give him a clue as to his location, the waterbender just found silence. Luckily, he didn't even need a sound to decipher where he'd been taken, feeling the bed and the floor underneath him gently rock and sway in an undoubtedly boat-like fashion.

So, his captor had brought him aboard one of the Fire Nation's many warships - not very surprising. What was a little startling was that Ichigo could clearly tell he was laying on a bed, the mattress plush and bedding silken enough to blatantly advertise it was no uncomfortable pallet made of straw customary for a prisoner of war but rather an expensive resting place fit for the commander of this vessel. It immediately set the prince on edge, suspicions rising at the oddity of the situation. Why hadn't the Fire Nation scum thrown him into a cold metal cell to rot?

Ichigo didn't have much time to mull over the possible explanations because a moment later the creak of an opening door and a subsequent bright light that hurt his eyes jarred him from his thoughts. Blinking rapidly, the boy instantly rose to a sitting position. Once his sight cleared and returned to normal, he could make out the figure, then the features, and finally the identity of the one entering the room. His heart jumped into his throat and his stomach clenched, eyes widening and mouth parting.

He was clueless as to why he had such a visceral reaction when he'd been expecting for this exactly to happen. He wasn't skittish or easily flustered, his obstinate nature only refined by his royal upbringing and years of being groomed to secede his father as Tribal Chief, so it was completely alien and downright confusing for him to act this way and Ichigo hated it - almost as much as he hated the despicable (but undeniably magnificent) man standing in the doorway.

The orangette's challenger dazzled him even more now that he was dressed in a Fire Nation commanding officer's uniform, the dark grays, reds, and gold of the armor and fabric a visually stunning contrast to the man's electric porcelain blue mess of hair and the cyan orbs brilliant and swirling with a controlled chaos that were his eyes. His smug, predatory smile flashed a glimpse of blindingly white teeth, canines sharper and more pointed than a human's should be. Before Ichigo could stop himself, he mused that the other man was the perfect illustration of beauty and brutality, the love child of the spirits of love and war and every bit as savage and lovely.

"Good morning, Your Highness. Sleep well?"

And thoroughly and utterly infuriating.

* * *

When Grimmjow rose the morning after the failed siege of the Northern Water Tribe, he did so with a wide grin and a spring in his step. For the first time in months, he had something exciting to look forward to that day on his very own ship.

Something he'd worked hard to get after risking life and limb infiltrating the tribe's defensive forces and then the city itself, seeking out the fight of his life after which he hunted down and escaped with his bounty, borrowing an abandoned rowboat whose owner he mentally noted to repay the debt and making his way back to his ship unnoticed.

However, securing his prize within his own quarters was all he'd been allowed before the blunette was bombarded by commanders and captains asking for orders on what they should do next. Somehow Zhao had gotten himself killed, a fact Grimmjow took great amusement in, and that left the sole Admiral among the fleet of ships as the voice of authority. It had taken almost all night for him to sort out the mess the power-hungry imbecile left him with, the admiral finally retiring two hours 'till dawn in a lieutenant's now former bedroom.

And now Grimmjow stood ten feet away from his prisoner, the young man scowling at him atop his own bed, the expression a great source of pleasure to him; it meant the orange-haired royal hadn't lost his will and wouldn't do so anytime soon. The firebender would've been very disappointed if Prince Ichigo had given up and subsequently let the fight in him drain away. To himself Grimmjow would admit that look of stubborn and determination in those dark amber eyes stirred something inside of him he hadn't known was there and staring into them was like standing on the edge of a cliff, the wind ruffling his hair, or hanging onto the railing for dear life on the deck of his ship during a tempestuous storm, turrets of rain soaking him to the bone, monstrous waves beating against the hull without mercy, and bolts of crackling lightning striking so dangerously close to him he could smell the electricity - a thrilling adrenaline rush mixed with a foreign, nameless sensation similar to pleasure and even fondness but at the same time not.

It was incredible.

"Where am I?" Ichigo demanded in a quiet voice laced with a threatening undertone. Grimmjow clicked his tongue disapprovingly, shutting the door closed behind him and taking a few steps forward to stand right at the foot of the bed. It was pitch black again until he whipped his arm out to the side, two fingers extended from the rest as he shot small jets of fire where he'd memorized the several candles in his quarters to be. The wicks caught aflame, illuminating the metal-walled room and revealing its contents: a bed covered in crimson and gold bedding, a wooden desk covered in parchment and scrolls, a carmine mat for meditation laying on the floor, a wardrobe whose open doors displayed the admiral's clothes, formal, nonformal, and pieces of armor, and finally a tapestry bearing the Fire Nation's black flame symbol opposite the bed.

"Did we forget our manners? I would've thought a prince such as yourself knew better than to be impolite to your betters," Grimmjow said, clasping his hands behind him and leaning forward a bit over the orangette, quirking a brow.

"Of course I do," Ichigo said through gritted teeth, never betraying a bit of weakness by not moving an inch away from the other man. "When I see any, I'll be sure to be on my best behavior."

Grimmjow's grin widened and he straightened up, walking around the bed and closer to his prisoner. "I just realized we haven't been properly acquainted, Your Highness."

"You already know who I am," Ichigo scoffed.

"Yes, but I haven't returned the favor; a little rude considering you're currently in my bed, don't you think?" Grimmjow drawled, delighting in the faint blush that tinted the waterbender's flawless tawny skin and how his fierce scowl deepened creating the most adorable expression he'd seen yet. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Grimmjow, Admiral to the Fire Nation's Southern Fleet and your gracious host during your time aboard my ship."

Ichigo's face paled a little, the revelation of his captor's status as one of the four men holding the highest and most prestigious title in the Fire Nation's military probably a bit of a shock to him, and it stroked the blunette's ego to no bounds. However, the prince recovered quickly and readily spat back a response. "What the hell does an Admiral want with me?"

"Ah, it isn't me that wants you, Your Highness," Grimmjow said, watching the confusing pass over the other's pretty face. "Disappointed?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Ichigo said, rolling his eyes - an action rather bold for a captive among the enemy. The admiral gave a gruff chuckle in his deep voice, amused by the boy's audacity. It wasn't often someone had the nerve to talk back to him and this would be the first instance in which that person didn't pay for it in blood.

"You're too cute, prince, you know that?" Grimmjow husked, turning away from the flustered, sputtering teen and lowering himself to the chair by his desk, moving it to face the other. "Agni above, relax, would you? It's a compliment."

Too unnerved by the blunette's words, Ichigo merely curled his upper lip and let out a sound of frustration somewhere between a growl and a snarl, Grimmjow thinking his syrupy brown eyes blazing with vexation an impossibly beautiful sight to behold.

"But let's move on to the reason I came to speak with you, shall we?" he said almost as if he were rather bored by the topic. "See, while you're a guest on my ship there are a few things you should know to make our time together as... pain-free as possible, savvy? Firstly, and most importantly, we have here a strictly enforced no waterbending policy."

"And you think I'm going to abide by that policy?" Ichigo quipped in superior disbelief, as if the notion was so ridiculous anyone who believed it was an absolute moron. Grimmjow laughed softly to himself, reclining in his chair casually.

"Unfortunately, it's non-optional," he said, tone condescendingly sympathetic. "Not to mention, it might be a little hard to waterbend without any water," he lamented, elaborating when the parka-bedecked boy raised his left eyebrow skeptically. "Don't worry, precautions were taken to make sure of it. The crew pumps dry air through the vents and will use proper restraints when you're given drinking water. You'll be heavily guarded at all times and confined to the four walls of this room until we make port at the capital."

Ichigo simmered in deathly silence, burning gaze saying more than words ever could. Grimmjow barely suppressed the urge to lick his lips, his mind playing imagined scenes of things he could do to inspire other equally passionate expressions, desire so strong it surprised him blossoming within the more primal and instinct-driven part of him. A lifetime of pressure and need to always remain composed under any circumstances was the only reason why the naturally hot-blooded firebender remained impassive on the surface.

The admiral rose from his seat, stalking toward the frustratingly attractive royal until he was nearly flush with the side of the bed, bending at the waist so that his face was inches away from Ichigo's. Their eyes locked, intensely boring into one another, seemingly piercing straight down into the depths of what might be their souls.

"But you and I know that won't be enough, don't we?" Grimmjow whispered so softly his words were almost inaudible. "In fact, I'm counting on it. And when that happens I'll be there waiting for you."

"Why?" Ichigo asked breathlessly, causing the older man to smirk before he straightened to his full height and began to walk back to the door leading to the hallway.

"Don't pretend as if you don't know," Grimmjow said, turning the spoked wheel in the center of the door and pulling it open. "I want more than just a taste... and so do you, Ichigo."

Then he disappeared beyond the threshold, leaving the door to swing shut behind him and his prisoner alone in his lavish cell. There was a soldier posted on either side of the portal, stances rigid and at attention in the presence of their superior. Grimmjow ignored them, swiftly striding down the hall and taking a mental note to replace them with two of his best benders. He didn't want Ichigo attempting an escape just yet; that would be like reaching that blissful peak of physical intimacy before he'd even undressed.

No, when you were lucky enough to catch the perfect partner you had to take your time, savor everything that led up to climax, and with an ocean to cross during their journey all they had was time.

* * *

Ichigo lay on his back, staring up at the dull metal ceiling. He didn't know how long it had been since the admiral, Grimmjow, had paid him a visit but figured it to be close to sunset by now, the day feeling like an eternity. All that had happened since the man left had been the two times a group of armored and masked guards brought him food and water, an utterly humiliating experience involving the binding of his limbs so he was unable to move even a finger. Somehow, he'd managed to keep calm for the duration of both meals, repeating that he would get his chance to escape his imprisonment over and over in his head like a mantra.

At some point his parka had proven too warm for the mild temperature of the ship and he'd slipped it off, storing it under the bed - hidden from whoever may for whatever reason take it away from him. This left him dressed in his tunic, pants, boots, gloves, and arm wrappings. He was also relieved to find no one had removed any of his three necklaces, all of them irreplaceable in the event of their loss.

Though the waterbender wasn't certain of why exactly he'd been taken prisoner and was currently being shipped to the Fire Nation capital, there was no doubt whatever the reason was it wasn't good. Forget his own safety, he needed to return home for his people. In the wake of devastation the siege had wreaked upon their city it was more critical than ever they be able to look to the royal family and council members for guidance and reassurance, especially considering the sudden loss of their princess. Furthermore, aside from that Ichigo couldn't allow the Fire Nation use him in any way against his tribe which was all too likely why he was still alive.

It would be excruciating to wait and bide his time until he'd developed a plan or an opportunity presented itself but like so many other things he didn't have a choice.

However, that didn't mean he couldn't make himself more comfortable in the meantime, Ichigo thought as a devious grin flittered over his face. Sitting up on the bed and bending his legs in front of him, the orangette lifted his bound wrists to chest level. There was a band of metal around each of them connected by a heavy chain made out of iron links that measured about eight or so inches long. It was suspicious that he even had them on in the first place, he a known master waterbender supposed to be rendered helpless by such a simple and flimsy contraption.

Casting the thought to the side, Ichigo bowed his head and brought his forearms together so his wrists and the metal bands pressed against each other, raising them 'till they rested barely an inch from his mouth. He inhaled deeply and exhaled his breath slowly through his lips where it crystallized in the air and swirled around his wrists, its temperature colder than the arctic wind. Immediately a layer of frost appeared on the pieces of iron, lines of jagged cracks in the material soon following. The skin underneath the chains began to burn in protest, the metal feeling like solid ice around his wrists, but Ichigo didn't let up before his lungs were empty of air. Then in a lightning fast movement he jerked his wrists apart violently, the chains holding for a brief second and then shattering completely and bursting into pieces.

Ichigo took a moment to revel in that he was now able to move his hands and arms freely and the pile of broken metal spread across the carmine bedsheet. The small act of rebellion made him feel a bit better, more determined.

A noise signaling someone on the other side opening the door had his head snapping up, already on alert. He expected the group of soldiers to enter the room, here to bring him dinner he wished he could refuse under the principle of not accepting any form of aid from the enemy and the one who'd captured him (more like taken advantage of his grief to sneak up behind him to disable him with a cheap shot but whatever.)

Needless to say, Ichigo was not in the least prepared for instead of several figures a sole one to step through the door and greet him with an irritatingly self-satisfied smirk.

"Breaking things already, I see. Not very princely of you, Your Highness."

Recovering from his surprise a moment later, Ichigo merely sneered at the newcomer, still not back to the mental state needed to come up with a scathing retort, especially since he was busy raking his gaze over the other's form. Grimmjow looked no different from this morning, dressed in uniform and armor that unfairly brilliantly complemented his complexion of bronze and azure, yet this time he carried something in his hand that confoundingly resembled two sets of dinner rations. Ichigo felt his eyes narrow on their own, his wariness swelling to new heights.

The admiral strode across the room to his chair by the desk, perfectly at ease as he sat down and placed both of the full bowls and one of the cups in his grasp onto the wooden surface next to him. He continued to hold the other cup with his right hand, propping it up by resting that elbow on the desk. Feeling vulnerable in his position, Ichigo unfolded his legs and swung them over the side of the bed, clutching the edge of the mattress at their sides. The predicament he presently found himself in was just too bizarre, his captor appearing to intend on them dinin together as if they were friends. Grimmjow had to be planning something or have some kind of trick up his sleeve, perhaps plotting to lure Ichigo into a false sense of security.

"Stop looking at me like that," the blue-haired man grunted, plopping his booted feet onto the desk, legs crossed at the ankle. "I always eat my dinner in my quarters, so you're the one invading my personal space. Be grateful I don't throw you in a cell with the elephant rats."

Though he physically was no different from this morning, there was definitely a change in Grimmjow's aura. He wasn't acting like the narcissistic, infuriating, teasing, and smug man who'd conversed with the teenager earlier on, no glint of amusement in his vividly blue stare and his smirk was an empty expression. There was a darker vibe to his energy and Ichigo fleetingly thought the man looked tired... and unhappy, before mentally dismissing the notion. He wasn't about to feel even the tiniest bit of sympathy for the one who'd heartlessly taken him from his home and directly into the enemy's clutches.

"I'd rather you did. Maybe then I wouldn't have to endure your company."

"I'm not exactly thrilled by your presence either, brat," Grimmjow said, upper lip curled and eyes looking down into the contents of his mug.

"You seemed pretty excited I was here this morning," Ichigo snapped, drawing his knees up and arms coming up to lay across them while his feet rested on the edge of the bed. "Why were you, anyway? Why get so amped on having me here as a prisoner of war if not for some sadistic anticipation of whatever you planned to do to me?"

Lucid cobalt blue eyes flashed up to meet his, their depths a tapestry of unknown emotion despite the rest of Grimmjow's visage appearing as if carved from unforgiving stone. "I don't owe you an explanation."

"Yes, you do," Ichigo said, mouth moving faster than his brain. "You said it yourself: I gave you a good fight, a challenge. Doesn't that deserve at the very least an answer to one single question?"

The admiral chuckled darkly, lowering his gaze and setting his drink on the desk before knitting his hands together and placing them behind his head. "What's so funny?" Ichigo asked, frowning.

"That you don't realize you just answered your own question."

* * *

Since that first night the Fire Nation admiral and Water Tribe prince reluctantly spent dinner in each other's company they continued to do so each and every night after, neither mentioning the strangeness of their arrangement. Days passed, then a week, then two - a fortnight of Prince Ichigo's captivity on the warship and the last meal of the day shared between the two men.

Grimmjow couldn't exactly speak on his prisoner's feelings toward that hour after sunset he sat at his desk across from the orange-haired youth, conversation sometimes sparking and flowing with ease and other times utterly non-existent. But he could say, to himself that is, he didn't _hate _the singular moment of relative peace he was allotted throughout the day. From the instant his eyes opened to whenever he was finally allowed to close them his life consisted of never ending mental and physical exertion, the job of an admiral bitter work. It wasn't terrible being able to look forward to when he could relax in the presence of just one person instead of dozens or even hundreds.

And he guessed His Highness wasn't an awful choice for his dining companion. The brat didn't talk incessantly and when he did whatever he said wasn't stupid or boring, though he did have an annoying habit of asking question after question and Grimmjow hated the looks the younger man gave him at times, like he was just _so_ morally superior. But Grimmjow still preferred fighting the Tribal Prince above all.

Agni, nearly all of his dreams featured that one magnificent battle he recognized as his personal best. However, the memories triggered something in him he'd never associated with any of his past fights and it frustrated him. There was a longing, a desire to fight Ichigo again, and an admiration for the waterbender, not surprising since the kid had earned Grimmjow's respect as anyone so powerful and gifted in the bending arts and combat would, and then there was something else. An emotion unfamiliar to him that wasn't _unpleasant _and presented itself whenever he thought of Ichigo and their first meeting and steadily grew stronger.

Less confusing than this was all the bits and pieces of information the waterbender had unknowingly given away too freely to someone he barely knew, not to mention an outright enemy. Grimmjow had learned over the last two weeks Ichigo loved arctic white crab, hated sea prunes, despised the Fire Nation and firebenders (a fact he repeatedly mentioned), at seven had had a close call with a stray wolf, this was his first time leaving the Northern Water Tribe since he'd arrived as an infant, and he'd even absentmindedly let slip to secede the title of Tribal Chief he had to marry, his tone all that was needed to betray his lack of enthusiasm at the prospect.

And what disturbed Grimmjow was he'd revealed just as much of himself, his inhibitions somehow lower than normal. He comforted himself by figuring his willingness to reciprocate due to their inevitable parting at the Fire Nation capital, the Ichigo that knew all that was said in confidance good as dead.

The ship was halfway through the crossing from the arctic waters of the north pole to the volcanic islands of the Fire Nation, traveling along the coast of the northwesternmost part of the Earth Kingdom. In two more weeks they would dock at their destination, deliver the Fire Lord's gift, and then Grimmjow would probably be ordered to return south, back to a mind-numbing existence without real purpose. The blunette had really been spoiled recently, given an unusual amount of excitement in such a brief period of time. It would be hard to readjust to the mundane and harder to accept it.

But Grimmjow was not the kind of man to wish, misty-eyed and wistful, on a star or whatever stupid inanimate object the weak and faint of heart believed able to magically grant that which they desired. He was a man of action, and yet that was precisely why obediently returning to a life grayer than an overcast sky and duller than a broken blade terrified him.

* * *

When the firebender entered his (former) quarters, he found his captive prince not in his normal spot on the bed and instead sitting at the desk, back to the door whilst reading, rather oddly, one of Grimmjow's firebending scrolls. The heavy thud the door made when it closed by itself alerted Ichigo he'd been caught and to the older man's amusement he immediately began to shuffle the numerous pages of parchments covering the desk, stuffing them back wherever they came from.

Turning around cautiously in his seat, the effort Ichigo put into looking cool and collected was both obvious and humorous, especially since he was betrayed by a rosy flush tinting his naturally tanned skin and scowled even harder than he normally did. "You're late," he murmured and Grimmjow briefly wondered how the boy could tell the time without a window or sundial.

"Is that why you were rifling through my things?" he said, avoiding answering the question. "I had no idea you cared so much."

"I do not!" Ichigo protested, clearly an impulse from the way his eyes widened a bit after the exclamation left his lips and when he spoke again he did so in a much softer volume, clearing his throat beforehand. "I mean, I don't really care whatever it is you have stashed away in here. I was just bored and I only read a few instructional bending scrolls anyway and - "

"Shut up, you're not in trouble. I'm not going to bend you over my knee and give you a spanking."

The reaction to those words was _so_ worth it.

Ichigo really had a talent for looking outraged and painfully embarrassed at the same time. And blushing. The young prince's face burned a bright red even while he venomously glared up at the other man, appearing on the edge of committing murder with his bare hands.

Grimmjow walked in the direction of the desk, closing the distance between he and the pretty royal. He carelessly dropped the dinnerware on the desk and made use of the bed's vacancy, flopping onto the plush mattress on his back and positioning his hands underneath his head. As always, he revelled in the quiet surrounding him after too many hours of pure noise guaranteed to cause a splitting headache.

"It's probably not a good idea to let your guard down around a prisoner like that," Ichigo said following a couple moments' silence, every syllable dripping sarcasm. "Isn't an admiral like you supposed to know that by now?"

A vein in Grimmjow's temple ticked harshly and his brow and nose scrunched a bit after the brat simultaneously asked another pointless question and insulted him passive-aggressively. "Firstly, don't act like you're planning to try anything while I'm in the room. Secondly, what makes you think I'm letting my guard down?"

"You really think too much of yourself, you know that? And you're lying down with your eyes closed in a small space completely alone except for an unrestrained captive waterbender. If that's not letting your guard down I don't know what is."

"Then you don't know what it means to be aware of your surroundings," Grimmjow said, eyes opening and swiveling to the side in order to see Ichigo bent over the desk, his chin cradled in one palm and staring down at the mess of parchment covering the mahogany wood. "Truthfully, it doesn't matter if I am or not when I'm alone with you."

"What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying you... _trust me_?"

"I don't trust anyone," Grimmjow scoffed. "I just know you won't make any escape attempt as long as I'm in this room."

"You sound so certain, as if you've known me forever, not a measly two weeks. How can you be so sure of what I may do or not? You can't, it's not possible."

"Let's say I'm an expert at reading people and leave it at that."

"Let's not. Please share your secrets with me, oh wise one," Ichigo said, his facetiousness growing every second.

"How 'bout I prove it to you instead? And once I do you promise not to ask me any more stupid questions tonight and eat your dinner like a good boy."

"Fine, go for it."

Grimmjow's mouth curved into a wicked smile, never taking his eyes off Ichigo's lovely face in anticipation of whatever amusing expression was soon to come. "All right, what if I told you I knew why the last time you practiced waterbending in public was the day you earned the title of Master? It wasn't difficult to figure out, not after you showed me what you were capable of and a few minutes worth of conversation. In fact, I'm surprised no one else has realized it before me."

"You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know anything about me," Ichigo said, nearly whispering his voice was so soft, the sound that of a man gravely offended and trying to hide the reality of his fear.

"Oh, don't I? You, my dear prince, haven't waterbended where anyone could see all this time because you're afraid, probably more so than of anything else, that if anybody witnessed what you can really do, the amount power you possess, your potential for destruction, they would then become terrified of you, coming to believe you weren't so much a Master as a monster. Your biggest fear is fear itself."

Once Grimmjow had said the words 'you're afraid', the orangette froze, not appearing to so much as breathe whilst his captor revealed what had to be his deepest, darkest secret as if he could see straight into his soul, the single explanation for why an enemy he'd known for a mere fortnight spoke aloud what he feared most of all. The blunette felt incredibly pleased with himself in that instant, having thoroughly shocked Ichigo into absolute speechlessness and proven his claim he was an expert at reading people so well it was not only possible for him to assess everything about someone, personality, loves, hopes, dreams, fears, he practically read minds.

"I win, so go ahead and eat and don't ask me any more of your annoying questions."

It was Grimmjow's turn to be surprised as Ichigo did what he said, mute save for the sound of chewing for the rest of the hour. Those expressive amber orbs seemed to dim, their color and radiance fading until they were flat and lifeless, and stared blankly at his bowl the whole time. Suddenly not hungry, Grimmjow simply lay there, unable to enjoy the quiet stillness for some reason.

At the end of the hour, he sat up and was on the verge of standing when Ichigo at last said something.

"Tell me what your biggest fear is," he said as if the sentence was a wistful sigh and when his only response was utter silence, elaborated. "Even if your moral compass doesn't exactly point north, I know you have some kind of code of honor buried in there somewhere. I'm at a disadvantage you must feel you have to get rid of for us to be on equal ground, right? So, tell me what it is you fear most of all."

"Sorry to disappoint, Ichigo. I was born into Fire Nation nobility; nothing scares me."

He left quickly after that, his lie leaving a bad taste in his mouth. But he couldn't tell Ichigo what he feared more than anything was just what the fiery-haired waterbender saved him from.

A sleepless night and sunrise later, Grimmjow stood in the ship's control center as a part of his routine morning rounds when one of his men delivered to him a letter wrapped in black ribbon. Recognizing the contents of the letter as of utmost importance, the admiral nearly ripped the thing in half, eager to discover if it held news of anything the least bit interesting. However, within seconds as he scanned the characters written in perfect calligraphy for the first time in his life Grimmjow felt his stomach drop.

_Admiral Grimmjow of the Southern Fleet,_

_It is the express order of His Majesty Fire Lord Ozai, Commander in Chief of the Fire Nation's Imperial Army, that previous instructions concerning the currently imprisoned Tribal Prince Ichigo of the Northern Water Tribe be disregarded in favor of a new imperial order of action. Cease your ship's journey to our capital city immediately; it is no longer your express duty to deliver the prisoner of war to His Majesty the Fire Lord. By His decree the reigning Admiral of the Southern Fleet is now bestowed with the honorable duty to dispose of aforementioned prisoner as efficiently and soon as possible and directly afterwards set a course for the Admiral and all ships under his command to return to their previous position sailing the southernmost waters to continue serving our great nation and His Majesty Fire Lord Ozai. Further instruction will be delivered upon the completion of the orders entailed within this message. _

_As dictated by His Majesty Fire Lord Ozai._

* * *

On his sixteenth morning waking in the deceivingly lavish quarters that served as his jail cell, Ichigo finally opened his eyes not expecting to see the comfortingly familiar sight of his childhood bedroom then being crushed by the bitter reality of his situation. It got a little easier each day, the seventeen year-old slowly growing accustomed to his confinement within the admiral's former private rooms.

He hated to admit it but lately all it seemed Ichigo could think of was said admiral. But that was only natural, right? Grimmjow was his sole source of human interaction, the singular person with which the orangette had spoken to for the entire duration of his time on the Fire Nation ship - fifteen days and counting. Even things like how much he missed the sunshine and the scent of crisp night air he barely began to muse over before the enigma of blue-haired man cut right through his thoughts and then his mind would unwillingly conjure a book of ideas all centering around the firebender, Ichigo wondering what that head of exotically exquisite pale azure hair would look when it caught rays of sunlight or if the sun instead warmed the ship deck to the point Grimmjow was sweating and decided to take one or two layers of his uniform off in order to cool down...

To make a long story short, it was driving him insane.

And what really frustrated Ichigo was that his thoughts were too dominated by the blunette's presence it had been impossible to formulate even the beginnings of an escape plan during the hours he passed alone in that room. He wouldn't be surprised if he totally lost it in the next few upcoming days.

In a cruel twist of fate, the honest truth was the prince owed the staying power of his own sanity to those stupid dinner dates every night. Ichigo couldn't believe he actually looked forward to when Grimmjow would appear at the door, his excuse for choosing to eat there always that he wanted a reprieve from the laborious tasks of an admiral - a valid reason, Ichigo supposed.

And the worst thing about it all? Grimmjow wasn't just extremely skilled at firebending and stunning to look at, he was... _interesting_. Inconceivable, yes. Maddening, definitely. The truth, unfortunately.

Everything the man said sparkled, his deep, rumbling voice making his simplest remarks sound powerful. His teasing was, although infuriating, admittedly clever and full of wit. Yet the few occasions Grimmjow said something profound were what really left Ichigo breathless. That moment those lush lips were the first to speak his greatest fear...

There were no words.

Perhaps if they hadn't been born and bred as enemies they could've been something more. But the reality the sole threat to his freedom was Grimmjow and despite whatever silly feelings Ichigo began developing the second they first met face to face in the icy streets of his beloved frozen city he never lost one tiny bit of his will to break free and return to his people. He didn't know how long it may take or what may be needed to make it back yet he knew one day he would set foot on the grounds blanketed in snow of home.

Ichigo pushed himself up to a sitting position, sliding his legs over the side of the bed and throwing the covers off of his lower body. For the sixteenth day in a row he continued to wear the outfit he'd donned the night of the Fire Nation's attack on the Northern Water Tribe, his parka remaining untouched where it lay underneath the bed.

In fourteen days time the ship would dock at the island locale of the Fire Nation's capital city and if he stayed onboard 'till then it would be too late for him to escape whatever horrible fate awaited him there. He hadn't succeeded in narrowing down the endless possibilities that the Fire Lord & Co. may have in store for him. Grimmjow certainly never gave any clues away if he was informed about the matter. Would the man really readily hand Ichigo over to Lord Ozai when he'd been made aware of the tyrant's cruel plans? Sure he was brutal and rough and had a sadistic streak and was a bit... _off_, but did that necessarily mean he was so heartless? He couldn't be, he was too intense and passionate and always intense no matter his mood, his eyes reflecting the burn of his inner fire smoldering at times and blazing at others.

Ugh,why was he even thinking about this? Ichigo groaned and buried his face in his hands. The amount of instances Grimmjow invaded his subconscious were already ridiculous and the number just continued to grow bigger every passing second. The sooner he got away from the man the better.

Ichigo jumped at the loud creak of the door swinging open at unimaginable speed and hitting against the wall with a metallic thud. He didn't even get the chance to identify the muscular figure that burst into the room, clothed in all black fabric hiding everything save for the upper half of their face, before said figure grabbed his upper arm in their hand, forcefully pulling the orangette off the bed and through the doorway into the hallway.

Recognizing the bizarreness of what was going on, halfway down the hall Ichigo dug his heels into the floor and suddenly stopped short. His mouth opened, demands for an explanation ready on the tip of his tongue and immediately forgotten as the unknown man in black looked over his shoulder and the waterbender caught sight of a very familiar pair of unreal blue eyes.

"Grimmjow?" his shocked whisper impulsively said. "What in the hell are you doing? What's going on? Why are you mmph - " Ichigo's steadily rising voice was cut off by a gloved hand slammed over his mouth, the other lowering his half-covered face incredibly close to his own.

"Do you want to die?" Grimmjow said through the fabric enshrouding his features, tone deep and dangerous. The orangette shook his head, the hand remaining pressed to his face. "That's what I thought. So if you want to live you shut up and do what I say, got it?" Ichigo paused, not knowing if he could trust a Fire Nation admiral and then realizing that whether he liked it or not he trusted Grimmjow with his life more than anyone else. He nodded and the hand left his mouth, instantly once again being dragged through the narrow hallway like a ragdoll. However he decided it best not to complain about the rough treatment. Whatever was going couldn't be good and right now he had to rely on Grimmjow's help, a predicament he never imagined in his wildest dreams.

At the end of the corridor they hung a sharp left, Ichigo's feet hardly touching the floor as he allowed the blue-haired man to practically carry him. They were met by a set of steps closer to a ladder than stairs that appeared to lead up to the deck, Grimmjow releasing the hold on the other's arm and ascended the steps. Following suit, Ichigo rushed up directly behind the older man and within a second flat they stood on the ship's massive deck encircled all the way around by a simple rail.

Ichigo was greeted by several different visual pieces of information, processing them rapidly with the battle-trained mind of a master martial artist. The sun was hovering right above the horizon, telling him it was just after dawn, and he assessed that their surroundings were not the open sea as he'd originally believed. There were actually docked in a small bay on the coast of a small seaside village, picking out the telltale architecture of Earth Kingdom buildings. Also, he and Grimmjow were alone on the deck, unusual for a colossal military vessel crewed by hundreds. The last, and most important thing, Ichigo noticed were the fleet of smaller, sleeker ships flanking their substantially larger one, their unfamiliar flags boasting red backgrounds and ebony sea raven emblems.

He heard Grimmjow swear vulgarly under his breath, the firebender seizing the prince's wrist in hand and tugging him into a full-out sprint across the spanse between them and the tip of the ship's bow. They had run three-fourths of the length when a swarm of grappling hooks soared up in the air, finding purchase on the railing. Grimmjow slid to a complete stop, Ichigo nearly crashing into him.

"I know I promised I would shut up, but I think now may be a good time to fill me in on exactly what's happening and who _they_ are," the teen hissed, gaze scanning over the dozen or so men climbing up lines of rope and dressed in clearly Fire Nation armor though it differed from any other he'd seen so far.

"'They' would be the Southern Raiders, the special naval task force, and are about to try and kill us in about.. ten seconds. Give 'em hell or you're a dead man," Grimmjow muttered, falling into a defensive stance. Ichigo shook his head to clear it of the shock from the hasty debriefing basically telling him he was on the edge of a fight for his life.

Well, good thing he had more than enough water to bend with.

The identical thirteen figures of these Southern Raiders set foot on the deck in perfect unison, their arms rising at the elbow in traditional firebending form and all together they began to close in on their two targets. Ichigo briefly pondered whether he or Grimmjow were supposed to take on seven instead of six, widening his stance so his feet were shoulder-width apart and his arms protected his center, their extension relaxed to portray the softness associated with the motions of waterbending. He chanced a glance at the firebender at his side, not needing to see the eager grin on Grimmjow's face to know it was there.

Their assailants collectively stopped, a tension-filled silence lasting the moment of anticipation before they struck out their closed fists and aimed jets of fire in the center of the circle toward both bending Masters. Using speed even he was impressed by, Ichigo moved his arms in a gentle arch from his side and across his chest, pulling a stream of water out of the waves below to surround him completely as an impenetrable shield. Beside him he was vaguely aware of the projectiles within Grimmjow's reach fizzle out in thin air without the man so much as wiggling a finger.

The first attack done, playtime was over.

Ichigo dodged the next barrage of flames by bending water underneath his feet and surfing the small wave around the ship deck, leaving a wall of ice in his wake. The Raiders' attempts to scorch him always came close to their target but no cigar, the orangette too fast for even their highly skilled assaults. While he raced around his track of ice, he watched in the corner of his eye the very center of the brawl where Grimmjow was in his glory.

The admiral was one of the most agile yet terribly powerful benders Ichigo ever watched display their abilities, if not _the_ most. He bent fire with brilliant grace and incredible strength, the way he moved surely impossible for a mortal to perform and still he made it look effortless. The teenager turned his full attention to Grimmjow when the man dropped to the ground, supporting himself just with his hands and span around several times, creating rings of fire whose heat Ichigo could feel on his face. Those close to the blunette were forced back at least twenty feet in order to not be horribly burned and before the flames dissipated Grimmjow was back on his feet, a swirling vortex of fire bursting from his fist.

Ichigo returned his attention to the Raiders on his tail, deciding it necessary for a little more of his own bending action. Riding a sharp curve, he lifted his arms out to the side and sent the water underneath him shooting as a column high above his head. His six opponents lined up fifteen or so feet away, launching their fiery missiles one after the other this time. Ichigo shifted his right foot back so he could angle his body so that his left side faced his enemies, bent arms gliding from their position parallel in opposite directions until his fingertips were all that mirrored each other. The column behind him collapsed and rushed over his head, the effect a waterfall crashing directly where the firebenders stood, helpless against the forceful current throwing them back to slam against the railing.

Unlike the men pushed over the metal bar to plummet into the ocean, three recovered, abandoning their uniform fighting style in favor of attacking Ichigo individually, two punching a series of fire blasts and one jumping into the air and kicking as high as he could to conjure a tower of fire intending on consuming the orange-haired boy in its path. Ichigo swept his arms and subsequently a wall of water massive and sturdy enough to withstand all three surges of flames. He let it fall immediately afterwards, bringing his palms to shoulder-level and facing outwards which froze some of the water in midair. Then he turned his body to the side once again, front arm holding its form while swiveling to remain pointed straightforward and the other arm slicing diagonally in front of Ichigo's torso, the liquid under his control freezing into a sheet of ice.

Returning to face forward, the prince used both arms to slash down in an 'X' and splintering the block of ice and creating a hail of fatally sharp crystal daggers that shot with perfect aim toward the three Raiders. Two fell victim, the opponent on the far left the one of three quick enough to bend a blast of fire to protect himself. Ichigo somehow sensed underneath the thick layers of armor the expression on the firebender's face was a mask of nerves as it dawned on him he was now alone in the fight against the waterbender, whose body hummed with self-satisfaction.

Nevertheless, he needed to wrap this up and move on to what his and Grimmjow's next step would be. Circling his arms and then pulling them back and closing his fists as if he meant to punch them simultaneously, he did just that, a torrent of water beckoning his call and mercilessly striking the remaining Raider, lifting his flailing body about three yards. Almost dismissively, Ichigo simply rotated his fists a few degrees and froze his opponent inside a small fortress made of solid ice.

Hearing a sizzling crackling noise that was in no way the distinctive low roar of flames, the youth whipped around and saw something that caused his eyes to grow to the size of saucers and jaw to drop. After all, Ichigo had only ever heard and read about what he was witnessing, a rare phenomenon in all four nations.

Grimmjow was at the bow of the ship, all seven Raiders he'd claimed still standing and sporting singed clothes and numerous injuries forming a row of statues, surely paralyzed by the same incredulity the sight before them Ichigo felt. The blue-haired admiral stood in a wide stance, knees slightly bent, his arms crossing over each other and he was alternating slowly gliding them in slow, graceful motions, pointer and middle finger extended. Then there was the reason everyone was watching stunned and silent: shooting in jagged, pulsating bolts from the tips of those two fingers was pure lightning, the danger and electricity the heavenly energy emanated echoing the aura of the mortal manipulating their power.

And then Grimmjow slid one hand out and away 'till the blindingly blue vortex was directed right at the point exactly halfway on the line created by the seven assailants. Ichigo almost felt bad for them; they never had a chance Grimmjow released his storm of lightning in the blink of an eye, posing the question which was the real force of destruction.

The moment the bolt of cerulean electricity struck its bullseye an explosion erupted on the spot, the results a thick cloud containing debris and smoke and crackling tangents shooting out its center every which way. Ichigo instinctually shielded his head and face using his arms, lowering them not a second before he was certain the dust had settled. He peered through the mist of gray vapor, spotting prone figures belonging to Raiders but Grimmjow was nowhere to be seen, as if he vanished into thin air.

"That was fun, wasn't it, Your Highness?"

The yelp that escaped the younger man's throat brought a bashful blush to Ichigo's face and a barking laugh out from deep down in Grimmjow's chest, the cloth meant for covering the blunette's mouth and nose now pulled down under his chin, the seventeen year-old lamenting no matter how well his imagination recreated that predatory grin it could never compare to the real thing.

"Aside from a team of assassins trying to kill me, I had a wonderful time."

"Liar. Stop acting like you're so damn morally superior. I saw that smile you had on your face," Grimmjow said, raising one eyebrow, and a brief jolt went through Ichigo's body when he realized that during some point in the fight he _had_ smiled.

"Yeah, well at least I'm not an egotistical showoff that toys with my opponents to whenever I decide I'm ready for my grand finale," the orangette spat back, folding his arms and avoiding the other's gaze by looking off in the distance.

"Tch. At least I'm not an uptight, clueless, self-righteous little boy and know how to have a good time," Grimmjow said, giving it right back.

"Better to be any of those things than a sadistic, heartless lunatic incapable of real emotion and tries to fill the void with violence and bloodshed but in the end will be unloved and die alone," Ichigo said, spinning to look straight up into the older man's eyes and voice rising in volume to a shout by his last few words. Surprisingly, Grimmjow didn't say a thing to that, his lucidly azure orbs whirlpools of intense emotion and in spite of himself the orange-haired waterbender began to feel guilty for saying what he had.

Never breaking their eye contact, Ichigo shortly decided to take back what he'd said simply because the man to which he said it had inarguably (and unbelievably) saved his life that morning. He lowered his eyes and took a deep breath, ready to be the bigger man and apologize and possibly call a truce with the firebender but he didn't get the chance.

What happened within the next few seconds Ichigo felt he experienced in slow motion, witnessing every last millisecond with frightening clarity.

First he sensed Grimmjow stiffen, broad hands snapping up to grab his shoulders and the man's gruff voice yelling "Get down!" while pushing him down and to the right using strength that knocked Ichigo to the metal surface, landing on his side _hard_. Pain flaring in his ribs and elbow and indignant at being roughly shoved out of nowhere, the prince was in the process of looking up to the man who'd pushed him and subsequently saw the inferno soaring right where he'd been standing in his peripheral vision. But he made it just in time to watch in horror the devastating flames slam into Grimmjow's chest and savagely driving him crashing to the ground in a heap, his body sliding twenty feet and left curled on its side facing away from where a shaking Ichigo refused to believe what he'd just seen had really happened.

That collapsed, lifeless figure couldn't be Grimmjow. It belonged to somebody else, somebody weak and cowardly and easily defeated, somebody in no way like Grimmjow.

And yet Ichigo vaguely discerned that his body was already moving to push himself to his feet and once he was standing began approaching the unmoving form in a slow, gliding fashion that made it seem as if he were walking in a dream.

But that surreal atmosphere shattered around him as his instincts sensed the threat at his back and prompted him to spin on his heel, whirling around and stilling himself when he faced the exact opposite direction. Mind free of his shock-induced hazy fog, Ichigo zeroed in on a single Raider back from the dead and rage seared through his veins at the abhorrent sight of the bastard responsible for the cheap shot. Apparently this alone was able to send fear piercing through a feeble and wasted soul, the masked soldier backing away a few steps.

Unfortunately for the wretch who mistakenly believed engaging a fury-filled Ichigo, the height of emotions coursing throughout the master waterbender realized the perfect conditions for his most impressive technique. For reasons unknown to him, pulling the remarkable feat off required feeling something so deeply and completely it overwhelmed him, the effect similar to an adrenaline rush.

Focusing every last bit of his energy, Ichigo channeled it all into mentally willing his desire to become reality. It didn't take long until the water started responding to his wishes, he and his element's spiritual connection vibrating with power in the recesses of his mind, and the warship quaked as a great rumbling sounded from the depths below. And finally a monstrous swell of blue and white water ascended from the ocean to the heavens like a giant sea monster, the mass towering stories above them when it stopped, casting a looming shadow. Its trembling stillness painted a frightening portrait and like a living thing threatened an unmerciful end to those it hunted.

Delighting in the Raider's unadulterated terror visible despite the armor and mask for a stirring moment, Ichigo narrowed his eyes and beckoned the mountain of water to do his bidding. The center of the immense wave rippled as the water shaped its face, swooping down and opening its gaping maw wide as possible. Ichigo witnessed in great satisfaction the animate wave flood the deck's other side and that mouth swallow the red and black figure there whole and then recede back into the sea as if it had never happened.

A hoarse groan interrupted his feeling pleased with himself, acting as a warning bell to return to the real world. Ichigo practically flew across the distance separating him and where the pile of black fabric lay motionless near the railing. Upon reaching it, he fell to his knees and hesitating a bit before gingerly gripping two handfuls of material and ever so gently used his hold on it and pull towards him.

Ichigo bit his bottom lip hard as the action forced him to recognize the listless body was Grimmjow, unable to deny it when he rolled the man onto his back - barely noticing the lock of sky blue hair that had escaped the headwrap to its rightful place dangling over a tanned forehead. There wasn't anything that could draw the orangette's attention away from the ugly image of Grimmjow's freshly burnt chest, painfully red seared skin slashing a line down the whole length of his torso, the front of his shirt scorched in the same pattern.

He was totally unaware he'd subconsciously called to the water for help until he felt liquid forming around his hands and begin glowing faintly. Ichigo thanked the Spirits above he'd risked the consequences of getting caught to secretly visit the healing huts and listened to the lectures, though he'd never actually tried what he learned on an injured person...

Begging anyone listening in the Spirit World for this to please, please, please work, even praying for his sister to help him, Ichigo rested his hands a few inches above Grimmjow's chest and painstakingly followed everything he heard the wisewomen say, tapping into that connection like a beaded thread somewhere in his mind.

After an agonizing minute of nothing happening, the glow surrounding his hands brightened and he actually felt the water seep into the damaged flesh. He started a little when he started to really feel the throbbing pain twisted in the burned skin, but figured it meant he was doing something right. Gradually Ichigo relied less on his memory and more on instinct, the latter definitely more suited to the spiritual art of healing. And, thankfully, he watched as the redness of the burn dulled and scar tissue appear around the edges, this process continuing for a grueling twenty minutes, pushing himself to his limits doing the exhausting task of marshalling his entire store of concentration. Nevertheless when it was all over, the grievous injury was a fully healed scar, better but not enough to alleviate the guilt turning Ichigo's stomach in knots.

What were the chances the man he'd believed to have taken his life away saving it twice in one day? If Grimmjow hadn't pushed him out of the way, that fire blast would've hit him and the man wouldn't be lying unconscious in front of him.

"How did you do that?"

Ichigo yelped and hurriedly fell back to lean on his hands, his demeanor not unlike a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Also he was starting to suspect Grimmjow surprised him on purpose. The orange-haired youth looked over to where the other's head rested on the metal surface, eyes no longer closed and staring straight at him. "Do what?" he asked, genuinely lost.

"Healed a fresh burn to an old scar using your bare hands," Grimmjow said, completely serious and voice more hoarse than normal.

"Oh, right," Ichigo said, awkward peals of laughter at his expense following. "Healing is a waterbending technique, but it's only taught to girls. I mean, that's the way it's supposed to be but I... uh... yeah."

Great Spirits, he felt more uncomfortable than ever around Grimmjow, and was making a fool of himself stammering and trying his best to act casually and it wasn't like him at all. Scooting farther away from the object of his vexation, Ichigo rose to his feet and ambled over to the railing. He heard Grimmjow do the same, practically tingled all over knowing the man stood behind him.

"So what's going to happen now?" he questioned, not having a clue what the answer may be.

"Well, I don't about you but my plan is to go to Ba Sing Se - best place for a Fire Nation fugitive."

Ichigo's head snapped over his shoulder and fixed Grimmjow with a disbelieving stare. "Fire Nation... fugitive? How did that happen?"

"Yeah, it's a recent development." the blunette said nonchalantly. "Anyway, are you coming or what?"

"Coming?"

"You really need to work on not asking so many damn questions," Grimmjow said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now I'll make this simple for you, yeah? I am going to Ba Sing Se. Are you coming with me or not?"

"Just to clarify, you mean travel there together, not enemies but... allies?" the orangette said, moving away from the rail and closer to the older man.

"Yes. Give me an answer now because in ten seconds I'm leaving."

"I... uh, I guess I'm in," Ichigo said even though he'd made his decision when the admir-... _fugitive _first asked him. He knew next to nothing of making his way in the real world. His best bet for survival and ultimately returning home was traveling with someone worldly and capable, and Grimmjow practically defined those words.

"Hurry the hell up, then. Unless you want to wait around for the next group of assassins trying to kill you, that is." The blue-haired man began striding away as he spoke and after a second Ichigo hurried to catch up with him. They navigated their way around the mess they'd made and walked down the ramp to the docks below, the orangette suddenly aware of the pairs of eyes peering from windows and cracked doors off in the fishing village of witnesses to the earlier spectacle.

"We should probably stop at the next town," the teenager murmured, Grimmjow just nodding curtly to convey his agreement. "And buy some new clothes. You do have money, right?"

"Nope."

"Are you serious? How are we going to survive without any money? Where will we get food? Or do you plan on living like a caveman for the rest of your life? Did you think ahead at all?"

Grimmjow stopped dead in his tracks a few steps ahead of him, whipping around and rushing to stand flush with Ichigo's body, towering over the younger male. "I _dare _you to ask one. More. Goddamn. Question."

"Wha-" Ichigo was allowed to get one syllable out before Grimmjow's gloved hand reached up to grasp his chin in what may be one of the most titillating experiences in his young life.

"You've got such a pretty face. Do me a favor and shut your mouth, all right? Be seen, not heard. It'll make this so much easier for the both of us." Grimmjow said huskily, interrupting the prince when he tried to speak again. "You owe me, after all. I saved your ass twice today."

Not wanting to ignite an argument as they had more important things to do, Ichigo settled for glaring daggers at the man's infuriatingly handsome face and said over and over in his mind that his heart did _not_ flutter at being called 'pretty.' Satisfied, Grimmjow released him and continued leading the way out of the bay's docks. Once they reached the end of the wooden platforms and solid land it went without saying they would turn onto the path leading away from the village and into a bamboo forest, Ichigo marveling at the foreign flora as they disappeared among the lush foliage.

And this was just the beginning of their journey traveling to Ba Sing Se.

* * *

**A/N: **_Well I hope you all enjoyed! Despite the lack of hanky panky, lol. Any loose ends in the chapters will be tied up in upcoming chapters._

_I think out of all my stories this one is the closest to canon..._

_And guess what? We have fanart, and it's absolutely beautiful and created by the wonderful **Shadowthorne** over on dA. Just delete the spaces from the link below to view it. :)_

** shadowthorne . deviantart art/ Heliogabalus - 303011566**


	4. eyes on fire

_Remember how I said there wouldn't be any other Bleach characters in this story? Yeah, I lied. I couldn't resist peppering in some cameos of my favorites, so expect a few familiar faces to pop up._

_..._

_chapter four: eyes on fire_

* * *

"_You can't fight forever." ~ Aang_

* * *

It was nothing short of a miracle that the two men made it to the next town without killing each other. They didn't even argue, not once, restricting their communication to a few sentences at the most.

Grimmjow didn't really think about it, his mind already preoccupied with formulating plans on how to reach Ba Sing Se as quickly as possible. However, the rare instances it crept into his thoughts he questioned why he savored the comfort of their silence yet wished the orangette following his lead through the bamboo forest break it with one of his sarcastic comments. And then Grimmjow's stomach always did flips due to his realization that he was actually fretting over his _feelings_ similar to a naive, lovesick youth.

This cycle lasted the entire three hours it took walking along the dirt road before thatched and curved, shingled roofs appeared through the tall bamboo shoots. Squinting, Grimmjow was able to see that around twenty meters ahead the foliage ended and gave way to the town, this one bigger, more populated, and richer than that seaside village back at the docks. However, they were identical in one aspect, that being Earth Kingdom locales occupied by the Fire Nation and advertised as such by a massive cloth bearing a crimson and ebony flame emblem hanging where its green and gold counterpart once did.

Noticing he'd already unconsciously stopped walking, Grimmjow saw in the corner of his eye his orange-haired traveling companion move forward and stand beside him. He also caught a flicker of surprise cross the other's face, undoubtedly recognizing the captured state of the town as well, the sole difference being that Grimmjow had expected it.

Ichigo knew so little of the world and its ways - a novelty from the blue-haired man's perspective. Born and bred of Fire Nation nobility, his younger years spent constantly being trained and groomed in preparation for a career among the imperial military's highest ranks and a lifetime serving their dear Fire Lord, Grimmjow couldn't recall what naivete felt like - if he'd ever experienced it at all. Wrapping his mind around the fact this was Ichigo's first real time beyond the artic waters surrounding his old home proved difficult, his twenty-nine years on the earth and perception of it too different.

Then again, now no longer a highly esteemed and influential Admiral he'd fallen from the very top to rock bottom, taking not even forty-eight hours to ruin everything he'd achieved since the literal beginning of his life. A single decision changing his world to its extreme opposite, like black to white, should've been impossible and yet there he was, lacking any form of status and not a coin to his name except for the bounty on his head. Don't misunderstand though, Grimmjow found it exhilarating to finally be truly rid of the regulated, oppressive military lifestyle and his own man free to choose what he did, when he did it, and however he damn well pleased.

"While standing here not saying anything is nice and all, I think we should start walking again," Ichigo said, the older man unaware how long he'd been lost in thought. "We don't know how far away the nearest town is and I'm pretty sure it's not a good idea to be in the forest after dark."

"That's why we're staying here until tomorrow morning," Grimmjow said.

"You're seriously planning to just stroll right into a town crawling with Fire Nation soldiers," Ichigo stated flatly, clearly unamused.

"Not exactly. Besides, what you seem not to know is most villages, towns, cities, wherever people live along every mile of the Earth Kingdom's coast, are either colonies or occupied. We won't actually enter Earth Kingdom territory until farther inland." Grimmjow turned to face the waterbender whose deep frown was directed off into the distance, the news obviously unwelcome. "But I have an idea."

Ichigo's eyes slowly cornered over to look suspiciously at him, wariness causing his body stiffen, as if bracing himself. "Okay, let's hear it."

"All you need to do is slip into the shoots for a few yards and wait there until I come get you," Grimmjow said, his tone akin to a parent ordering their child to do as they said, never raising their voice or making a distinct threat because their authority was so absolute that anything explicitly intimidating wasn't necessary to ensure obedience. "Stay right there no matter how long you have to wait. If I come back and you're not there I'll move on without you."

"Why am I not surprised?" Ichigo sighed, rolling his eyes to the heavens and shifting himself parallel with the other, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And what is that supposed to mean, _Your Highness_?"

"It means you still don't understand that things are different now. We're not on opposite sides anymore. We're not an admiral and a prince anymore either. We're just two men on the run with nothing but the clothes on our backs. You said this morning we're working together to get to Ba Sing Se, that we were allies."

"Hn, stop pussyfooting around and get to whatever your point is. We're losing daylight here."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," Ichigo said, snapping his arms down and clenching his hands into fists. "Any way you look at it, we're equals, and you continue to speak and order me around as if we were back on your ship and I was still your prisoner. Any chance we have for both of us surviving the trip to Ba Sing Se you'll ruin if you don't stop thinking you can dictate everything and bid me to obey your will, because that's not how this is going to work. I may be younger and I admit I don't know much about the world but I've spent most of my life helping my father lead my people and I'm not too shabby at bending either. And I am not nor ever will be someone you can intimidate into obedience like you do everyone else, you can't deny that."

As Ichigo's speech progressed his aura intensified, speaking emphatically as possible without shouting and oblivious he'd advanced on his target until he had gotten right up in the blue-haired man's face. It made for a stunning vision, almost dazzling enough to divert Grimmjow's attention completely but every syllable of what Ichigo said he heard loud and clear. Figuring the appropriate response wasn't telling the orangette how sexy he looked when he was angry, Grimmjow settled for his other opinion on the matter.

This was one for the books, too. It was an occasion many believed wouldn't ever happen, not even meriting the slightest possibility, and he instantly resented a teenager's whining made it a reality. Cursing blackly using words probably foreign to Ichigo under his breath, Grimmjow harshly twisted the other way and distanced himself with a couple strides.

"Fine. You come up with a better plan, then," he half-growled, unsure what kind of reaction he'd earned and the air thickened with tension each passing second. Eventually, he peeked over his shoulder and saw Ichigo scowling at the ground and biting his bottom lip, appearing to be concentrating hard on whatever he was thinking about. "Don't hurt yourself, now," Grimmjow laughed roughly, in his mind eagerly regaining some pride he'd lost admitting the younger man was right.

"Bite me."

Reluctantly, the firebender passed up that golden opportunity. They were wasting the hours of sunlight left and dilly daddling dangerously close to a hotbed of Fire Nation activity. "Look, with all due respect you don't know jackshit about how things work here down south," Grimmjow said, ignoring the murderous glare aimed at him and grabbing Ichigo by the arm, leading them off to the side so they were less visible. "Luckily that's where I come in. There isn't a single thing about the Fire Nation's military I don't know like the back of my hand. Once I get close enough it'll be easy figuring out how to slip right past the guard. Not to mention, I'm the obvious choice to handle something of this nature."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ichigo demanded, already indignant without knowing the answer, and surely clueless the picture he made putting his hands on his hips in a fashion similar to a sassy female stereotype.

"It means you're too morally righteous to pull off what we need to do to survive," Grimmjow explained to no avail for the waterbender's confused and offended expression didn't change. "It means we don't have anything and no money to buy anything and won't last long unless we just _take _what we need." After he spoke, understanding slowly dawned on Ichigo's face.

"No... no, we have to figure out another way. I won't... _steal _anything from innocent people, Grimmjow," the boy said quietly yet unwavering, shaking his head at clearly finding the notion utterly repugnant.

"Haven't you been listening? You won't have to. I know better than to bring you along, you'd take a piece of stale bread then feel guilty and turn yourself in or something. So, the plan is as it was: I'm going in alone, you hide out here and wait for me to get back." Grimmjow barely finished speaking when he grasped Ichigo's shoulders in his hands and gave him a push, sending the teen stumbling inside the wall formed by the density of thin, cylindrical bamboo shoots. "Stay here however long 'till I come for you. No matter how much time I've been gone, don't go looking for me."

The blue-haired man began moving away but halted as there was a tug on his frayed sleeve, turning back where Ichigo leaned out from the light green mass and held tightly onto the piece of fabric in his hand. "What if something goes wrong and you can't make it back here? Should I - "

"'Ichigo, I'm coming back."

And that was that. Ichigo let go and then Grimmjow was hurrying across the road and inside the identical mass of greenery that consumed and shielded completely, protecting him against enemy eyes.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Grimmjow had stripped half-destroyed black fabric layers off his body, leaving simply his pants and boots, and navigated his way out to open space again, a bit of good fortune on his side when he emerged and found himself immediately amongst a collection of massive sand-colored rocks and boulders which served him perfectly, allowing him to observe undetected.

This town wasn't quite affluent or populated enough to have its own outer wall built around its whole territory, instead possessing a free standing stone structure that was basically two square pillars holding up a third, Fire Nation flag hanging in the center. Guards were posted at both pillars and very faintly Grimmjow spied similar crimson figures sticking out like sore thumbs amidst the citizens at several different points. Noting each individual red dot, he visualized the zigzag pattern they created. Basic crowd control layout and, true to Fire Nation scruple, meticulously timed.

He was a bit disappointed they'd made it so easy for him.

Slinking around the rocks further down the town's curved edge, he wasted no time and raced through the open patch of grass right up to a wooden fence between two buildings and ten feet tall. Increasing his speed, Grimmjow leapt off the ground and planted a foot on the fence's flat surface, using it to push his other one higher still and step onto the top in one fluid movement. He dropped down and landed crouching at the end of a narrow alley, officially inside the occupied town with no one the wiser.

The firebender straightened up and casually walked the length of the alleyway, its opening a glimpse of the bustling street ahead, a loud cacophony of noises and many people moving in all different directions. Grimmjow paused when he came to the alley's threshold, waiting until a cart wheeled by to step out and blend into the crowd. No one so much as spared him a second glance - well, except for when he passed a group of made-up young women whose eyes followed him avidly peering over open fans. He supposed he would draw a little attention to himself strutting about bare chested but he didn't plan on staying for long.

It was now apparent this town had lived under Fire Nation rule for a good amount of time, its citizens seemed to lead perfectly normal lives, even prospered...

Lips curling out in a devious grin, Grimmjow started heading toward the bountiful crates lined up alongside the street. He cut a path straight across the throng of people who all too willingly moved out of his way and right up against the crates boasting piles of fruits, their merchant an older woman dressed traditionally in sage green and sable brown. She made eye contact that lasted approximately half a second, lowering her gaze, thrown off by the man's sudden and commanding presence. Whatever the woman murmured as a greeting was rendered inaudible by the clamorous din surrounding them so Grimmjow guessed it was something about buying fruit.

"Actually, I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to remind me where the mayor's office is."

* * *

Of all the numerous daydreams he played out in his mind the seventeen years he'd lived of what it would be like to one day visit the grand and vast Earth Kingdom, Ichigo never imagined himself sitting in a field of bamboo bored out of his mind.

He couldn't believe he'd agreed to this in the first place. Why hadn't he even suggested they pick a different rendezvous point? Seriously, this 'plan' Grimmjow formulated was beginning to seem a lot like an excuse for the man to infuriate him more than he did already - which at the moment was rapidly approaching maximum levels. The orangette didn't how many hours had passed since he'd been left here to rot by that blue-haired embodiment of vexation but it surely had to be at least four.

How much more was Grimmjow going to take his sweet time executing his plan? It shouldn't be taking this long, should it? What if Grimmjow had left and abandoned him to travel on his own? How dare he do something so selfish after Ichigo completely healed his mortal wound that same morning. Oh, he'd show that bastard no one makes a fool out of _him _and gets away with it!

Shooting to his feet, Ichigo was barely standing two seconds when a dark form suddenly popped out from the thicket of shoots not three feet away. His reaction was instant, a strangled yelp escaping him while jerking back from whatever it was threw him off balance. He began falling, hitting bamboo shoots on the way down until he stopped about halfway and yanked forward to his feet again.

As it turned out, who else was there but Grimmjow releasing his grip on Ichigo's shirt and donning new apparel made with very dark green and gray fabrics, not to mention had something strapped to his back - or actually more like two different objects, a few inches of their slender shapes visible above the blunette's broad shoulders that were recognizable as the handles of a pair of dual Dao broadswords popular in both the Fire and Earth nations. He also carried a rather large, bulging bag that wasn't anything ordinary like burlap or leather, its material resembling silk and ornately decorated in traditional Earth Kingdom colors and designs.

Ichigo recovered his shocked senses and didn't hesitate one bit to start tearing into the one who'd kept him waiting far too long. "Where have you been all this time! What were you doing - sewing the clothes yourself? Socializing with the locals? You must have been doing something for the past four or however many hours you spent there so what was it?"

Expecting the response to his questions either a harsh rebuke the impromptu interrogation or an irreverent dismissal and shrug of the shoulders, the younger man was taken aback when the only reaction he garnered from Grimmjow was a raised eyebrow. "Four hours? It's been thirty minutes," the blunette said a little warily, his expression close to concern.

...

"What."

"I left thirty minutes, as in half an hour, ago."

"Oh... well, having to sit in here it felt like hours so... the question of what you were doing during that half hour still stands," Ichigo said, adding that last part to divert the attention focusing on his (honest) mistake. He hated the fact the singular person on earth able to shatter his previously unshakable composure was the one around which he wanted to maintain it more than anyone else. For some reason, messing up even the tiniest bit in Grimmjow's presence sapped his confidence and tenacity and replaced them with self-loathing and insecurity. Ah, and to think he once thought himself lucky for never experiencing the anxieties and pressures that defined one's teenage years.

Guess he was just a late bloomer.

"I'll regale you with the tale of my thirty minute adventure while you change clothes. Here, put these on," Grimmjow said, mirth dancing in his lucid blue eyes as he poked more fun at the younger man's extreme exaggeration of time. Ichigo hardly noticed that, however, paying more attention to what he'd been told to do and the bundle of clothing being shoved at him. "Today, if it pleases you. Unless you require a humble servant to change them for you, Your Highness?"

"No, _thank_ you. I think I'll be okay on my own," the teenager said stiffly, wresting the clothes free from Grimmjow's grasp. When the former admiral simply stood there for a moment or two, clearly with no intention of moving, Ichigo fixed him with an expectant look. "Turn around," he finally commanded far more imperiously than ever he had all his years as a prince and apparently it had the desired effect because Grimmjow did so, though not without an irritated air like the request was just _so _unreasonable.

The orangette stared at the other's back with narrowed eyes until it seemed that there wasn't any intentions of peeking while he was in some state of undress. As he commenced stripping off his clothes fast as he was able, Ichigo was appalled at himself for finding strands of disappointment and hurt at Grimmjow's lack of interest in seeing him revealing an indecent amount of skin. Suddenly angry at everything and nothing at the same time, he nearly ripped the blue pieces of Water Tribe clothing off his body then furiously pulling his new shirt over his head and pants onto his legs, coming close to tripping himself.

When he finished he wore an outfit identical to Grimmjow's - dark green long-sleeved tunic and pants, dull brown bracers on his forearms, a leather and also brown belt with loops meant for securing various items but mostly weapons around his waist and matching boots slimmer and more fitted than his Water Tribe ones. All he kept of home were the three necklaces he never took off and not about to start now.

Ichigo cleared his throat, signaling he was finished, and the blue-haired man facing the other way glanced over his shoulder before turning around entirely. Grimmjow's eyes stopped where those necklaces remained around the boy's throat, Ichigo hurriedly tucking them under his collar and out of sight. The older man didn't say anything, just jerked his head toward where the road was and moving in that direction, followed closely by a silent orange-haired youth. It took them little time at all back to the dirt path, Ichigo unconsciously exhaling heavily, relieved by his return to open space free of endless bamboo monotony.

"Give me your clothes," Grimmjow said, reaching a hand out. Cautiously, the waterbender handed his last few pieces connecting him to his home and culture over, never a sentimental person yet reluctant to part with the beautifully blue fabrics he'd worn his whole life. "You can't keep 'em, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

A small flame ignited in Grimmjow's palm, the azure and ivory materials he held gradually consumed by the smoldering embers until only ashes were left that the breeze carried away.

* * *

At nightfall, Ichigo was inside the Fire Nation occupied town and actually, dare he say, having somewhat of a good time - something lost to him since the day of black snow.

It wasn't the uproarious, active, lively kind either, rather the opposite. He and Grimmjow were walking down a wide street practically deserted save for them and a straggler here and there, apparently a complete difference to what it was like earlier that day according to the blunette. Dusk's violet and indigo tinted glow ensconced the town, the flickering street lamps the only other source of light. It was the most peaceful moment in Ichigo's recent past and very welcome after weeks of nonstop anguish.

They'd entered the town without much trouble, none of the guards recognizing their signature brightly-hued hair colors, which meant word of their warrants and fugitive status hadn't yet traveled this far inland, nor did they seize any of their belongings as Fire Nation soldiers tended to do to Earth Kingdom citizens under their rule. He figured together he and Grimmjow made an intimidating duo amongst the countless world-weary refugees, their straight postures and bright, sharp gazes promising a fight unlike the others who looked utterly defeated and lifeless.

Now they were nearing the center of the town, where the largest and probably most important structures, as well as the only tavern and inn, were located. Upon nearing said inn, Ichigo could see this was where the majority of the locale's population were located for their supper hour. Warm light and hearty laughter spilled out of its open doors, tables and their benches filled to their maximum with men of all ages and their womanly company visible in the portal. Into the low humming of chatter and dining he followed Grimmjow's lead, fairly certain this would be where they would finally eat something and then spend the night.

No one paid them any mind as they entered, far too busy having their singular time of merriment during the town's occupation and most far too inebriated to even notice their arrival. The orangette walked behind his traveling companion all the way to the very back of the tavern where the last empty table sat in the far left corner, sitting down on the bench across from the other. Absentmindedly, Ichigo caught a few strains of a group of men's slightly slurred conversation.

"Did you hear 'bout wha' happened to tha mayor today?"

"Tha' slimy, lily-livered traitor? No, bu' I'm sure wha'ever it was he ha' it comin'!"

"Wellllll, listen ta this: someone broke inta 'is offish an' stole all 'is gold an' some annn... _antique_ swords offa tha wall!"

"Is tha' so? Serves 'im right fer betrayin' all 'a us - damn coward!"

All of the men all grumbled unintelligibly in agreement, clinking their mugs of foamy ale together and drinking to the mayor's misfortune. The look Ichigo then shot the blue-haired man sitting opposite of him could wither the resolve of the steeliest-willed of men yet he only earned a playfully smug grin in return, making him huff exasperatedly.

"Of course out of all the people in this place you chose to steal from the _mayor_," he hissed under his breath so no one else could hear him practically confessing to the crime. "Aren't we supposed to be keeping a low profile?"

"Would you rather have me taken the coins of a street merchant or baker instead?" Grimmjow said, drumming his fingertips along the wooden surface of their table. Ichigo didn't answer, his scowl deepening as he looked down at his lap. "That's what I thought. Now, what do you want to eat?"

"I don't care," the former prince murmured, not wanting to let the man in on the fact he knew nothing of Earth Kingdom cuisine, only that which he'd dined on in the north pole. Grimmjow unsurprisingly didn't pry for him to pick something, getting up from the table and walking away and toward the other end of the tavern where there was a plain counter carved from bamboo tended by a grisly elderly man with a long, white beard. Alone at the table for the time being, Ichigo rested his elbows on the surface and his chin in his hands and began to wonder what would happen once they reached Ba Sing Se. How would they support themselves? Or find a place to live? If the city fell to the Fire Nation, how long would they have before then?

Would they even stay together once inside the city's walls? Or would they go their separate ways? If they did, would he be able to make it on his own when he knew so little of life outside the Northern Water Tribe? And if he couldn't, would Grimmjow help him, or even care?

A burst of raucous cheers and boisterous cries of dismay caught his attention, leading him to look up to where the noise was coming from on the other end of the room. There he saw a crowd of men gathered around those sitting down at a table currently playing host to a rather spirited card game, a pile of copper and silver coins in the center. As a couple of the ones standing moved away from each other, they created an opening that allowed Ichigo to see the last player of the game and subsequently its winner - a young woman most likely a few years older than himself.

She had straight, shoulder-length dark hair, some of it pulled up into a top knot held by a hairpiece shaped like a skull whilst it hung like a swept curtain on the right side and over her eye. She wore kohl and plum-colored lipstick on her beautiful features and charcoal and burgundy clothing, her shirt sleeveless to show off tattoos in a swirl design on both upper arms. Altogether, she made for a sightly but imposing figure as she slammed her mug on the table and began sweeping the money in the pot into her coin purse despite the exclaims accusing her of cheating that she brushed off boredly.

Just as the last of the group of men sulked away from the table, pockets empty and pride bruised, a person wearing a black traveling cloak, the hood shielding their face from view, whom Ichigo had failed to notice leaning casually a yard or two from the card game pushed off the wall and strode over to sit down next to the dark-haired woman. Unaware that he was blatantly staring at them, the teen watched as the newcomer threw back their hood and revealed themselves to him.

It was man unlike any Ichigo had ever seen, pale as the moon with spiky, pure white hair down to the nape of his neck and his ivory pallor contrasted greatly with the form-fitting, dark gray and burgundy garments he donned that matched the woman's except his sleeves covered his arm up to the wrist and his fingerless gloves. Also noticeable was the metallic glint of a sword's hilt above a scabbard hanging at his side, far beyond the weapon of a common townsperson.

The alabaster-skinned man said something to the woman, making her roll her eyes yet smile ever so slightly over the rim of her beverage before she downed the rest of it. Ichigo didn't even realize he was still outright staring a bit rudely until the male's utterly bizarre but fascinating golden iris and ebony sclera adorned eyes slid to the left and locked with the orangette's own. Stricken, Ichigo quickly averted his gaze anywhere besides where the white-haired man was staring back at him, not daring to check if the other had stopped until a familiar form returned to the bench across from his.

"Here," Grimmjow grunted, shoving a mug full of an amber-colored liquid topped with a layer of froth at him. The younger of the two frowned confusedly down at the foreign beverage, never having tasted something like it and therefore hesitant to do so now.

"What is it?" he asked, wrinkling his nose as he inhaled the slightly stale scent emanating from the drink that the blue-haired man seemed to have no trouble chugging back like water.

"The only thing they've got to drink," Grimmjow answered, setting his mug back on the table with a thud and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in a fashion quite unlike that of a man born to nobility and previously one of the highest-ranking officers in an imperial army. "Unless you want tea?"

Making a disgusted face at the thought of sipping whatever constituted as tea in such a place, Ichigo slowly raised his drink to his lips and tipped just a taste of the beverage into his mouth. It wasn't as bad as he'd thought but he certainly didn't fancy its flavor, bold and stale and a little... earthy, if that was something one could taste. However he was incredibly thirsty from their day of walking and drank several gulps, placing it back down before surreptitiously swiveling his eyes over to the side to see if that man was still staring at him. He was.

Again tearing his gaze away, Ichigo attempted to appear completely oblivious to the intense stare even while his face burned at the unwanted attention. "So... are we sleeping here, um... tonight or...?" he trailed off, pretending to be very interested in the space above the head of blue hair opposite him. "'Cause I'm fine sleeping anywhere, you know, and we should probably save our money for when we really need it... right?"

"You can relax now, the albino isn't looking at you anymore," Grimmjow said, sounding rather amused by the youth's unease and at the same time somewhat contemplative as he trained his narrowed gaze over at the dark-clothed duo sitting together. "And yes, we are staying the night here but don't throw a hissy fit. I only paid a copper piece for us to sleep in the stables."

"Oh, good th-... wait, did you say the _stables_?" Ichigo fixed his disbelieving expression at the other man, unwilling to accept he'd heard what had been said right.

"Sure did." Grimmjow's brilliant cyan orbs swept back to meet the boy's deep brandy-colored ones, grinning sharply as if something pleased him an awful lot. "I thought you said you were fine sleeping anywhere?"

"I-... of course, I am! I just wanted to make sure I heard you correctly," Ichigo said, folding his arms over his chest and sitting back from the table's edge. "You really should speak more clearly in the future."

"I'll do my best," Grimmjow said, obviously not buying into the orangette's attempt at covering up his offense at the idea of sharing the same resting place that belonged to a horde of pig chickens and ostrich horses which only fed into the stereotype of being a pampered royal. The blunette took another swig of his ale before speaking again. "Now let's get to discussing our plan of action from here on out."

"What do you mean? Like, how we're going to get to Ba Sing Se and all that?" Ichigo quirked a tangerine eyebrow above his mug's rim from where he held it to his lips.

"We'll get to that once we get our hands on a map. What I want you to tell me for the time being is how you plan on defending yourself." At the teenager's puzzled silence, Grimmjow elaborated what he meant for the other to tell him. "It isn't smooth sailing from here to Ba Sing Se, especially not for refugees considering there's thousands entering the city every day and most of 'em are starving and desperate. If we run into trouble how will you fend for yourself without waterbending."

"Wait, why can't I use my waterbending?" Ichigo racked his brain for an answer to his own question, a reason he wouldn't be able to waterbend to protect himself from anyone who meant him harm. It wasn't like he was a firebender and by bending would alert all around him that he was from the Fire Nation and therefore an enemy.

"Have you so quickly forgotten that we're wanted fugitives of the Fire Nation in occupied territory? There aren't many orange-haired waterbenders in the Earth Kingdom. Bending where someone could see and recognize you would have soldiers and bounty hunters on our tails in the blink of an eye," Grimmjow said in one of his rare completely serious moments, letting the younger male know for certain this could definitely very well be a life or death situation. "So, I ask you again: how are you going to defend yourself until we're in Ba Sing Se?"

"Uh, I..." Ichigo worried his bottom lip between his teeth, searching madly for an answer he knew wasn't there. "I don't know," he confessed, feeling rather pitiful and vulnerable right then and there to admit to the man in front of him his shortcomings, not unlike how a student felt fessing up to their instructor they didn't understand the material. "All I ever learned back home was waterbending. My father taught me battle strategies and how to lead our warriors to victory but never how to be one."

There was a painful stretch of silence in which Ichigo was unsure of what Grimmjow's response to his admission of incompetence, not daring to lay eyes upon the man in fear of finding a mask of distaste at his spot of weakness. "Hn, well I can't be saving your ass all the time so I guess I'll have to teach you how to defend yourself without your bending," the former admiral finally concluded. "You ever used any kind of weapon, even just once or twice?"

"Not really..."

"Hmm," Grimmjow almost purred, the sound coming from deep within his chest. "Fine, next time we stop I'll get you some throwing knives."

"Why throwing knives?" Ichigo glanced back up at the blue-haired man and unintentionally making eye contact that was impossible to break, those irises like the sea after a storm too magnetic.

"The art of knife throwing is the closest I can think of to waterbending, the same arching swift movements required. Not to mention it'll keep your opponents at a greater distance from you, which you'll need since you don't know much about hand to hand combat."

"So you're going to teach me how to throw knives?" A spark of anxious excitement at the prospect spiked from the bottom of Ichigo's gut up to his throat and for what he wasn't entirely certain.

"Just call me Sifu Grimmjow."

At that very second, one of the innkeeper's employees chose to arrive with two bowls of some kind of Earth Kingdom dish consisting of meat and noodles in a salty, near bitter sauce. Both men were equally ravenous, digging into their sole meal of the day vigorously disregarding flavor or proper table manners, and after their first bite there wasn't much conversation 'till their bowls were essentially licked clean.

An hour later they made their way to the inn's stables, its permanent residents clucking and oinking indignantly at their arrival and eventually quieting once they ascertained they were pretty much powerless confined in their pens and therefore unable to chase the intruders out of their home. Exhausted, Ichigo found the softest looking pile of hay and collapsed onto it, curling up on his side facing in the opposite direction of where the older man had settled for the night approximately five feet away. In spite of being unnerved in a somewhat pleasant way at their closeness, there were too few hours of night remaining in which he could rest for another day of walking and so he suppressed the tense, tingling feeling in favor of a dreamless sleep.

* * *

A sliver of bluish pink-tinted light fell directly across Grimmjow's closed eyes, waking him from his deep slumber. He squinted his eyes open, recalling his location in an Earth Kingdom's town stables rather quickly due to the telling... odor around him as well as the sensation of pieces of hay sticking his bits of skin not covered by his clothing. Due to half his life spent serving in the military, he cast away the rising haziness in his mind and instantly became alert to his situation and surroundings.

The blue-eyed fugitive sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face and then popping his shoulders free of nighttime stiffness. With no time to waste he reached for the 'X'-shaped scabbards of his newly acquired Dao broadswords and the silken bag of money and other supplies he'd used as a pillow, strapping both of them securely onto his person. The instant he'd tightened the crisscrossing, leather bands of his dual swords around his torso, a incoherent mumble caught his ear and turned his head in its source's direction.

Fast asleep on his makeshift bed, the sunfire-haired seventeen year-old waterbending Master and once Tribal Prince rolled over to face Grimmjow, hands tucked under his head and practically dead to the world in peaceful unconsciousness. Sporting sleep induced flushed cheeks and a peaceful, relaxed expression the firebender never previously witnessed on his prisoner turned ally's face that spurred something akin to fondness in him that he brushed off as appreciation of the boy's singular moment in which he kept his mouth shut and didn't give any of those irritating looks.

Rising to stand above Ichigo's sleeping form, Grimmjow shook the youth awake using the toe of his boot. He first gained a tired, annoyed whine out of the other but didn't cease shaking him 'till a bright yet unseeing dark amber eye cracked open followed closely by its counterpart.

"Good morning, sunshine," the blue-haired man sang mirthfully, retracting his foot from that lithe figure laying below him. "It's time for us to be going so hurry up and look alive."

Ichigo glared hatefully at the one who woke him up at the ungodly hour preceding sunrise, the effect somewhat dampened by the sleepiness clouding his presence and how when he rose to a sitting position his tangerine-hued tresses were messier than ever, spiking up every which way. Hastily running his hands through his brightly-colored mane, the boy pushed himself to his feet and blinked blearily up at Grimmjow, waiting for further direction.

"All right, let's go," the blunette said, striding over to the stable's closed doors and lifting the wooden beam laying across them in order to push them open. He sensed Ichigo trailing after him as he walked outside and began heading for the town's gate at its end. However, they didn't make it very far, Grimmjow coming to a sudden halt in the middle of the town's center square that boasted a freestanding, double-sided board as tall as he was.

"Wha' is it?" Ichigo questioned, slurring a little since he was slow to shake off his inadequate amount of sleep's sedative effects. He didn't receive a verbal response, the larger male grinding his teeth together very audibly and stomping up to the board littered with various Fire Nation decrees and announcements. Grimmjow immediately ripped two pages of parchment off of the thing, studying their writings intently and his rage growing exponentially with each passing second.

Most noticeably, the majority of the official papers he held in either hand were decorated in two different, very accurate portraits of a snarling, fearsome grown man whose tousled locks and terrifying gaze were both rare shades of blue and an impassive young man barely reached adulthood with a halo of fiery hair and deep brown, determined eyes. Beside each representation of the two very real men were lines of characters depicting them as the former Fire Nation Admiral traitor and the escaped prisoner said to be previously not truthfully as a Tribal Prince but enemy of the state. Warnings to proceed with extreme caution should one be in close range of these bending Masters', the posters ordered any sightings to be reported at once and advertised an extravagant bounty for either's capture and arrest, stressing that the fugitives were wanted alive upon such time.

Grimmjow swore blackly, not bothering to mind the volume of his voice during the early hour's dead silence. Finished reading both wanted posters, he crumpled them into little crinkled balls of parchment and stuffed them inside his stolen bag.

"I guess it's a good thing we decided to leave before everyone else woke up," Ichigo said behind him, obviously having read the arrest warrants over his shoulder, and gave a nervous laugh. "We should probably get out of here as fast as possible."

Grimmjow grunted his approval, unthinkingly grabbing the orangette's wrist tightly in his left hand and proceeding to drag the boy behind him as he took off sprinting down the empty street. They couldn't exit the town through either of the main gates now, the guard no doubt familiar with their faces by now. That meant they'd have to leave the same way he'd first come in. He only needed a way to see ahead past the buildings whether or not the coast was clear and therefore navigate a safe route out of the town.

Passing the mouth of a long, narrow alley, Grimmjow slid to a stop and nearly caused the teenager he was pulling through the streets to crash into him. Ichigo didn't have the chance to say a single word or ask one of his annoying questions, the blunette barrelling down the alley and tugging the other along until they reached the halfway point and he dropped the wrist in his hold. Grimmjow leapt up onto one of the walls bordering the alleyway, gripping the uneven stones in order to scale the building's full height. Once level with the outwardly curving roof, he swung his legs high for them to be able to land on the roof's ledge, rolling into a crouching position where he could stare below him at Ichigo's befuddled expression.

"C'mon, this is the only way we're getting out of here," he said, beckoning the waterbender upwards.

"By climbing on people's roofs? Are you serious?" Ichigo hissed in a stage whisper, placing closed fists on his hips. "Because I think that's just about the best way for us to get caught!"

"We'll be moving too fast for anyone to see us when it's still dark out," Grimmjow assured, holding out an open palmed hand to the hesitant orangette. "Just trust me," he said, his voice steady and strong, the auditory sign of his confidence and implied promise his plan would see them outside the town safely. Ichigo hesitated the briefest of moments, then huffed in acceptance and began climbing the stone wall higher and higher 'till he placed his hand in Grimmjow's, allowing himself to be pulled onto the rooftop.

The older man let go a second later than he intended, turning and motioning over his shoulder for the other to follow his lead. Then they were off, dashing toward their freedom high above the town and its people, the general proximity of their buildings and subsequently their roofs working in their favor. Grimmjow narrowed the best route to safe ground beyond the town's limits down to a zigzag pattern across the tops of the structures and ending in the southeastern corner. Sensing that Ichigo still traced the path he made right behind him, the firebender picked up the pace and sprinted on top of the shingled roofs, heading straight for their point of exit.

Grimmjow only slowed once in range of that particular spot, halting completely on that roof's edge and hearing the boy at his back do the same. "I'll jump first and spot you," he said continuing to gaze at the grass-covered ground an entire story under his feet and judging how long it would take him to land. Not giving Ichigo the opportunity to debate his decision, Grimmjow leapt off the roof and plummeted to the ground for what felt like too long, making contact in a bent-kneed stance that he managed to hold in spite of his momentum and instantly rounded on his heel to watch that his traveling companion landed safely as well.

Visibly inhaling deeply, Ichigo took a running start off the rooftop, his figure airborne a second or two and then hitting the grass soundly and still standing in front of the other man. Not wanting to dawdle where any of the soldiers could perhaps spy them fleeing the occupied town, Grimmjow jerked his head in the direction of the start of another dirt road, this time cutting through an actual, wooded forest. They made it maybe within ten feet of it when suddenly their way was blocked off by a huge animal's fur-covered mass that soared directly in front of them the same distance away.

"Well, well, well, whatta we 'ave 'ere?" a silvery, smooth yet eerie voice greeted in a sing-song, lilting tone. "Y'all weren' thinkin' 'a gettin' outta 'ere 'fore a visit wit' me, did'ya?"

Grimmjow's eyes rose to where the speaker was astride the massive animal, placing him immediately to the same albino who'd been staring unashamedly at Ichigo last night in the tavern. His battle-trained senses were impossibly fast to pick out the metallic glint of a sword hilt at the newcomer's side and that the creature he was saddled upon was a shirshu, a rare and exotic breed of animal known for its unparalleled ability to track anything or anybody by scent alone and the paralyzing toxin released from its tongue should it hit you. Clearly this pale stranger's intentions were far from friendly and Grimmjow stiffened, recalling he and Ichigo's conversation in which the latter confessed to being pretty much helpless without his bending - that meant it was up to the older man to ensure it didn't come to that.

"And who the hell are you?" he spat at the white-haired man, who after which slid off his saddle to his feet, giving his shirshu a hearty pat on the muzzle.

"Guess tha' givin' mah name woul' be fair considerin' I know yers," the albino drawled. "Am Shirosaki, boun'y hunter, but ya can call me Shiro fer shor'."

Grimmjow's features twisted into a disgusted sneer, he really despised bounty hunters to the core, hating the greedy, grubby little worms who'd willingly betray their own grandmothers in exchange for a gold piece. Actually spitting at the pale man's feet, he made his repulsion for their kind quite apparent, biting out "Should'a known you were one of 'em slimy sons of bitches, you practically reek of them money-hungry, cowardly wretches."

The stranger's weirdly inverted eyes slitted, making it plain to see Grimmjow's words had touched a nerve. "Ya bes' watch yer mout', Admiral. I get paid no matta wha' condition I han' ya 'er tha' lil' peach behin' ya over in," he said, still sounding playful yet his words held an undercurrent of serious threat. "Bu' I'mma make ya tha' offer I give all tha men I rope an' deliver ta tha hi'est bidder like cattle, mmkay? C'mon wit' me wit'out a fuss an' I swear on mah Pa's grave I ain't gonna hurt ya none. Bu' if ya wanna figh' me am afraid I'm gonna 'ave ta an' ya still are gonna be comin' wit me in tha end, anyway. So, whatta ya say?"

Grimmjow smirked wickedly, always thrilled at the prospect of beating an opponent's arrogance out of them, and reached both hands across each other over his shoulders to grasp the hilts of his broadswords. In one swift motion that produced a metallic, scraping noise, he withdrew both of them diagonally downwards to his sides, their finely crafted golden, slightly curved blades gleaming in the sunrise glow. Absentmindedly he heard Ichigo shift uneasily a yard or so behind him but paid the youth no mind since this fight would all too soon be over.

"I say come and get it, Snowflake," the blue-haired man taunted, flashing his pearly, sharp teeth eagerly and twirling his weapons in his hands.

The bounty hunter, _Shiro_, cocked his head to the side and his lips tilted upwards into a small smile. Then, nearly too fast for Grimmjow to see, he drew his own pair of silver dual broadswords and charged forwards. But the blunette wasn't once one of the four Fire Nation's admirals for nothing and Grimmjow easily blocked the attack, leading them to push against the opposing swords, gauging their enemy's sheer strength for a moment and then forcing each other back a few feet, immediately delving back in for more.

Shiro was a formidable opponent for a non-bender, certainly more of a challenge than Grimmjow expected and a more capable, skillful fighter, too. They were actually pretty evenly matched, slicing blades through the air and blocking the other man's attacks at lightning speed. Nevertheless, Grimmjow had the training of an Admiral and a firebending Master and ultimately came out the stronger of the two, knocking one of the albino's swords out of his hand.

Instead of continuing with only a single sword, Shiro tossed his weapon aside casually and taking the other male by surprise for a second, almost catching him off guard enough to land an unexpected roundhouse kick on his chin. Grimmjow dodged just in time, narrowing his eyes as the pale bounty hunter used his impressive speed to circle around him in an attempt to find an opening in his defense. Figuring his swords were rendered a hindrance in what was now a hand-to-hand fight, Grimmjow resheathed his blades and blocked a fist aimed at his solar plexus.

Never ceasing in his assault, Shiro called out musically to his pet shirshu, "Get 'im, Zanny boy!"

Anticipating for the beast to attack him, Grimmjow cornered his eyes to get a good look at the bounty hunter's shirshu yet did so to see that the animal wasn't racing in his direction but rather straight for an oblivious Ichigo, whose attention was wholly focused on the two other men's fight. The man's blue eyes widened, his call of warning caught in his throat as he witnessed the orangette look over once the shirshu was too close for him to escape the mile-long tongue shooting out of its mouth and striking the boy's shoulder.

Ichigo collapsed to the ground within an instant, limply lying on his side as motionlessly as if he were near death. For reasons not entirely known to him, Grimmjow's inner fire raged with a roar deep within himself and instinct overtook his body, urging him to straight kick Shiro in the gut and then backfist his temple which promptly sent the albino staggering backwards dazedly. Figuring the bounty hunter for the most part defeated, Grimmjow rushed over to where the fallen orangette lay.

Turning the teen onto his back and pushing the arm covering his face aside, the elder of the two was met with Ichigo's expressive, dark amber eyes radiating confusion and fear at his sudden total body paralysis.

"Hey, don't look so panicked, you're perfectly fine," Grimmjow ordered, letting go of the other male but remaining in his position squatting right next to the unmoving form lying on the grass. "A shirshu tongue carries toxins that paralyze anyone lucky enough it touches. It'll wear off in fifteen or twenty minutes." Of course Ichigo was unable to verbalize or gesture his understanding, yet the firebender could tell he did from the fright gleaming dulling in those orbs of melted chocolate.

"Actually 's closer ta a half hour," Shiro's silvery voice interrupted, returning Grimmjow to be on his guard and ready for the bounty hunter to try and return the favor of those two devastating blows.

"Had enough already?" the more colorful of the two jeered smugly.

"Fer now, yea'. Nevah would'a guessed taday would be tha day tha' I suffah mah firs' defeat atta bounty's hands. Shame tha' it hadda cos' me tha' biggest reward I ever seen 'n mah life," the thoughtful musing of Shiro the bounty hunter drifted over from where he and his shirshu had reunited. "Congrats, Admiral. I'll be gettin' back ta sister deares' now."

"Tch, you never stood a chance," Grimmjow scoffed, keeping the white-haired man in his peripherals and wondering whether the woman he'd seen last night could perhaps be 'sister dearest.'

"I wouldn' say tha'," Shiro said, mounting his beast of a pet. "Ne'ertheless, I 'cept mah defeat gracefully bu' ya ain' ridda me fer good, Admiral. I'll be seein' ya an' yer lil peach again someday, so until then..." The albino trailed off, cracking the shirshu's reins and urging the animal to scurry off back to the town's border. Sneering at the man's odd ways, Grimmjow turned his attention back to the paralyzed waterbender he supposed he was responsible for however long it took for the toxins' effects to wear off.

"Agni be damned but you're more trouble than you're worth, brat," he growled under his breath, sliding an arm underneath Ichigo's back and legs and then standing to his full height, carrying the poisoned male princess style. They definitely couldn't hang out there, exposed and empty of the forest's cover, so Grimmjow decided it best to lug the seventeen year-old a ways down the dirt road.

It was hard to believe the sun was only now rising in the east above the horizon.

If they managed to make it to Ba Sing Se alive within this century Grimmjow swore to the Great Spirits he would merrily dance completely bare in the city streets. And who knew, he thought grinning lasciviously, maybe he could convince Ichigo to join him.

* * *

**A/N: **_Gradually traveling across the Earth Kingdom... I hope you all enjoyed, especially that little cameo of our favorite inner hollow. ;) Don't worry, he spoke the truth about this not being the last of him in the story. More beloved Bleach characters to appear in future chapters... :D_

_**And guess what? We have more fantabulous fan art created by the wonderful ~Aka-chan57 over on deviantArt. Just remove the spaces from the link below.**_

_****** aka - chan 57 . deviantart art /Heliogabalus - 307814235**_


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